just friends (sure, whatever you want)
by fahRENheit2006
Summary: What if Waverly and Nicole did try to be friends for a little while after their fight in Nicole's cruiser? A series of totally Not Dates between two Just Friends. Sure. Right. Canon-adjacent exploration around 1x09. Cross-posted from AO3. Series complete as of Chapter 5.
1. just another tuesday

It's shaping up to be another uneventful, forgotten birthday for Waverly Earp. Purgatory is nothing if not consistent in that regard. Because why hope for anything more after 22 years?

Except someone did remember this time. And she went out of her way to make it special for her favorite Earp.

* * *

Waverly Earp angrily scrubbed the counter of Shorty's bar, desperate to work away the pinpricks of heat lurking in her eyes. It was so frustrating. She was **fine** a minute ago. Just another day at work, the same lunch rush, the same familiar faces… It was fine.

 _Same old, same old._

She scrubbed harder, thinking of her stupid sister Wynonna and stupid Deputy Marshall Dolls off in the woods doing God Knows What with some stupid Revenants (without Waverly). They'd been gone since yesterday with barely more than a "don't wait up" and a spin of Peacemaker.

Just another Tuesday in Purgatory.

Except it wasn't another stupid Tuesday in stupid Purgatory.

It was just another **disappointing** Tuesday in Purgatory. Because why wouldn't it be?

 _No one had remembered. Again._

Her birthday. Her Goddamn birthday was today and no one had remembered.

Story of Waverly's life.

She'd tried a few different tactics over the years. Junior high was spent befriending Chrissy Nedley and Stephanie Jones and dropping unsubtle hints. At least then she'd get a trip to the city or a pizza party out of it when they forgot.

High school had been full of unaffected nonchalance. She was too busy and popular to make a big deal out of her birthday. That had backfired because then everyone almost had **permission** to forget.

Three years of dating Champ Hardy after that had been an exercise in futility. He at least had the decency to pretend to be sorry when he forgot, and her rage on the matter guaranteed a nice dinner and new shoes.

But now? At the ripe old age of 22? Waverly was just single and tired. Tired of trying. Sure, it made her perpetually upset the entire day. Especially since she was setting herself for a test that everyone around her had perfected failing with years of practice. The small, petty glee from confirming her worst fears quickly gave way to hollow, aching disappointment.

Waverly very much hated— **hated** —being proven right all the time.

She was past the point of tantrums at Champ or sad looks at a very tired Gus. And she couldn't even get mad at Wynonna who was off trying to save the world. There was no outlet for her anger or sadness so it just sat in her gut, festering quietly.

A low, familiar voice off to Waverly's right made her jump. "I think you're gonna start a fire on that counter from rubbing so hard."

Officer Nicole Haught stood sheepishly at the entrance, white hat in one hand. She held up another hand in surrender. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Waverly smiled and tossed the towel into the laundry hamper below the bar. "It's fine. And at least then I'd get the rest of the day off."

The other woman nodded, her face half-scrunched in consideration. "True, but only cuz you'd be in lock-up. Something something arson something insurance fraud."

A light, slightly bitter laugh from Waverly. "Right." She made a mock-scowl before shaking a theatric fist. "You damn cops are always one step ahead of me."

Nicole's answering breath of a laugh accompanied a wide, dimpled smile. She slid into the barstool closest to Waverly, Stetson placed on the counter. A crumpled $5 appeared from a breast pocket. "Still serving coffee?

Waving off the cash, Waverly nodded and bounced over to the coffee pot. She scrutinized the small collection of mugs until she found one that met her very high standards for this particular customer before pouring.

The distraction was welcome. Waverly had briefly forgotten that hollow feeling in her chest and found herself smiling.

Waverly checked the dangling watch on her wrist before passing over the steaming mug along with a few packets of sugar (the bowl of one-hit creamers following close behind). "Isn't it kind of early for coffee? Or kind of late?"

"Late," Nicole gruffly confirmed as she assembled a pair of sugars and creamers into her mug. There were deep circles under the woman's eyes and her normally tight French braid was loose in places at the back. "Just got off night shift. Running on fumes. You're my last hope of making it home instead of sleeping in my cruiser." She nodded her thanks and inched the crumpled fiver closer to Waverly again.

"Anything exciting happen?" Waverly asked, still ignoring the payment.

The woman took a long, deep sip of the (now medium-brown) coffee. Nicole made a satisfied sighing noise before opening her eyes and smiling back at Waverly. "Caught a punk this morning, red-handed. Vandalizing cars. So very, very high school."

"Thank you for keeping our streets safe from these monsters," Waverly replied solemnly with a wink.

Nicole stiffened, feigning offense. "I'll have you know they showed no remorse. The world is a safer place now."

"I believe it." It was meant to be sarcastic, but Waverly found she meant it genuinely.

The Officer noticed and smiled back. "How are you on this beautiful afternoon in Purgatory?"

Waverly had to suppress a scowl. How **quickly** that all came back. "Fine. Just another Tuesday." She went back to wiping down the stack of glasses fresh from the dishwasher.

A moment of silence passed before the clink of the coffee mug on the counter. "Is it?" Nicole asked seriously.

"Is it what?"

"Just another Tuesday?"

The patient, serious way Nicole phrased that question… it made Waverly's chest ache. She was so very tired of holding it all in all the time. Here was someone actually **asking** for once.

Waverly spun on her heel and started to open her mouth, but hesitated. Nicole just sat on her barstool, mug in hand, peering back at her with focus. It was… **nice**.

Instead, Waverly closed her mouth with a sigh. She didn't want to ruin it. She didn't want to explode all over this nice friend who was just being nice. She didn't want Nicole's pity. She didn't want Nicole to see her cry. She didn't want to look like the child she felt she was in front of Nicole. She wanted Nicole to think she was—

 **What?**

Waverly bit her lip to cut off that train of thought and went back to the glasses. She managed to lie with only a small strain in her voice. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Waverly returned automatically, her mask of politeness slipping into place. Part of her hated putting up that particular wall around Nicole, who was obviously trying to be nice. But Waverly just didn't have the energy to get into it right now.

"Okay, if you're sure." Nicole sat in companionable silence with Waverly, her coffee only taking a few minutes to consume. Waverly was worried she'd be irritated, but the woman's presence was surprisingly calming. Nicole didn't try to fill the void with chitchat. She just tapped at her phone and allowed Waverly the space to continue her busywork.

It was getting harder and harder for Waverly to stay silent. Her resolve was weakening with each clean glass she tucked back into the cabinet. Just as Waverly was approaching her breaking point, she heard the scraping of a barstool.

Sweeping her Stetson onto her head, Nicole pushed the coffee mug back towards Waverly. An obvious coaster of a $5 bill was tucked underneath it. She waved her phone at Waverly. "I'm gonna head home. I'll send you some Snapchats of the trick I taught Calamity Jane, yea?"

"CJ wearing your hat is **not** a trick, Nicole…" Waverly trailed off in mock-warning but she nodded. She found she loved trading pictures with Nicole. Even about the stupidest shit. It was nice.

"It is when you know how long it takes her to sit still with the damn thing on, Waves." Nicole smiled warmly as she tucked the phone into a back pocket. She tilted her hat at Waverly in salute. "Have a wonderful Tuesday, Waverly Earp." There was a pause and it looked like Nicole wanted to say something more.

But at Waverly's curious head-tilt, the moment passed and Nicole only turned on her heel.

And just like every time Nicole Haught left Shorty's, Waverly found herself sighing. She didn't know why she did that, like Waverly had to let out all the air in her lungs. It didn't make sense.

And despite Nicole's brief visit… Waverly found she felt a little better. The work of getting Shorty's flipped for the evening went by surprisingly quickly. Why, Waverly even managed to not remember her birthday every other minute.

Just every other **other** minute.

* * *

Around sundown, Aunt Gus patted Waverly's shoulder. "Knock off, girl. It's not gonna be busy and you should go enjoy yourself."

"But—"

"No 'buts.' I can take care of things here. Get going." Another pat as Gus pulled the apron off Waverly's waist. Gus pressed a kiss to her niece's temple and whispered a soft "Happy birthday."

That almost did Waverly in. Gus had been withdrawn since Uncle Curtis had died. And growing up, she'd never been very sentimental about things like birthdays. It was… nice. It made a good heat come to Waverly's eyes, but she held it together with a "thank you."

As Waverly spun her keys on her finger and headed for the brightly lit alley, something stopped her. Something was different.

Her red Jeep, parked behind Gus's truck, seemed darker somehow. Like there was someone inside it. Moving. As Waverly maneuvered around the black truck, a laugh strangled out of her throat. She had to cover her mouth as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.

The familiar Jeep was covered in white soapy polish. A big "22" on the hood, a "BIRTHDAY GIRL" over the passenger side windshield plus the sides and back had "HAPPY BIRTHDAY WAVERLY" all over in bubble letters. Whoever this was had the foresight not to cover the driver's side windshield or side window for safety.

Inside the Jeep itself were those dark shadows from earlier. Though when Waverly approached, she could see those shadows were balloons. Her car was filled to the brim with multicolored balloons, mostly purples, reds and oranges (her favorite colors). When she opened the door, a fair number of them squeaked loudly before escaping into the bright sky.

Sticking her hand in, her arm was buried to the elbow in latex balloons (though a few silvery mylar balloons were sprinkled in with "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" and "22"). Her entire car smelled of fresh latex, a very bitter scent. But Waverly didn't care. It was… **more** than nice…

A giddy feeling struck Waverly's chest, replacing the hollow one almost in a rush. It was… all she'd ever wanted. Just for someone to **notice** …

 _Who **did** this?_

It took some effort (and a few lost balloons) for Waverly to work her way into the car and still be able to see the road. Sacrifices had to be made, but more than a few balloons survived and bounced into each other in the back seat. Inside the passenger seat was a large piñata of a red dragon along with a small envelope and a large brown envelope. The small envelope had "open me first" in a neat script.

 _Hmmm… That writing is… familiar…_

A cheesy birthday card with a cat in a party hat read "Happy Birthday! You're Purr-fect!" It was just as terrible as Waverly had ever hoped for. She thumbed open the card to find a short, handwritten note:

"Dear Waverly,

If you're reading this, it means I managed to keep a straight face (but had to lie through my teeth). Sorry about that.

I didn't know what to get you (without being super obvious) so I stuck with a few things I think you'll like. The big envelope is from Gus, the piñata is from me. I would have left you a baseball bat too, but something tells me you're a girl who has a big stick for hitting things with on her own.

I hope you have a good one, Waverly Earp. You're amazing and the best part of Purgatory to me.

Celebrating you,

\- Nicole"

 _The envelope was from Gus?_

Hefting the flat package, Waverly felt a stiff, small weight. She ripped off the pull tab and slid out a large picture frame. A normal letter envelope with a sticky note fluttered out along with the picture frame.

The black and white framed photograph showed Shorty's, probably taken a few years ago. Featured were Shorty, Curtis and Gus along with Waverly smiling out front. Around the edges were signatures of regular patrons. Sloppy and rough "happy birthdays" lined the image margin.

 _But… none of them said anything. They just ate their lunches and left. Did they know?_

A sticky note, again in Nicole's neat script, said "I had to sic Nedley on the Shorty's lunch crowd to get them to sign this after they left the bar. They were also sworn to secrecy. Apparently, he also shook them down for extra tips, too. I neither condone nor deny this behavior."

Poking a finger into the white letter envelope, Waverly was shocked to find a neat stack of cash (mostly $5s and $1s, but a few $10s and at least one $20).

She couldn't take it anymore. Waverly opened up Snapchat to send Nicole a message, though she briefly hesitated about waking the woman up after she'd been up all night.

 _She did this on purpose._

Smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, Waverly tapped out: ["You did all this?"]

There was a short wait before a response. ["I have no idea what you are referring to. I am at home. With my cat."]

Shortly after, a picture of a ginger cat wearing Nicole's white Stetson while socked feet could be seen at the bottom of the frame. Waverly chuckled.

It took a few seconds of thinking before something clicked about their earlier conversation.

Chewing her cheek, Waverly's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she typed. ["Or… wait, was this the car vandal you were talking about?"] She pulled back to send a photo of her Jeep.

["Oh yea, that punk was out of control. You should be glad she's off the streets."]

["She, huh?"]

["Yes"]

A series of Snapchats suddenly streamed into Waverly's phone, all selfies of a certain Purgatory Sheriff's Deputy.

The first was Nicole standing in front of Waverly's Jeep with a cup of coffee in hand. Her Stetson along with a several bags of balloons, a couple of grocery bags, the dragon piñata, and a small cylinder of helium rested on the car hood.

The next showed Nicole holding Waverly's car keys with the caption ["Don't be mad, Gus let me have them. I promise I won't hurt your baby!"] Her brown eyes were wide with guilt as she bit her lower lip.

Another showed Nicole blowing up balloons and cramming them into the Jeep. Then one of her sitting in the Jeep making a silly, horrified face while surrounded by balloons. The last was of Nicole holding the dragon piñata like a baby in Waverly's passenger seat.

["See? She was a criminal mastermind. She had to be detained."]

Waverly replied with a small giggle. ["Truly a mad genius"]

["Did you crack the piñata yet?"]

["I was gonna do that when I got home."] Though the thought of the long drive back to the Homestead made Waverly impatient... Almost irrationally impatient, like if she didn't know what this surprise was she might burst.

["Good. Drive safe. You'll have to tell me what you think."]

["You gonna be up?"]

["I'll wait"]

Waverly hurried home, her foot heavy on the gas. She couldn't stop smiling, and her face around her cheeks and eyes were starting to ache from the effort. Occasionally there were tears, too. It was **better** than nice.

The Homestead was empty and quiet, her big sister still on a mission. An earlier text from Wynonna just read "Happy birthday, babygirl. Left you some of that shit pizza you like in the fridge. When I get back, we are going to the city. I missed your big 2-1 pub crawl and we have lost time to make up."

Finding the pizza, Waverly tucked a piece into her mouth while carrying the piñata, the picture and some of the balloons that said "22" (for her scrapbook) upstairs. Inside her room, Waverly grabbed her metal softball bat from the corner. She picked up the piñata to shake it. There was something large inside, but also the shuffling of a bunch of small things. _What could it be?_

It took about 4 solid whacks ( _very satisfying_ ) to break open the dragon. A font of candy and paper spilled out, as did a large roll of something soft.

The spread of candy included little Caramilks, a couple of smooshed Coffee Crisps, and a few Cadbury chocolates (all her favorites). The unfamiliar candies in with the rest included individually wrapped cherry cordials and a sour candy she'd never heard of. She wondered if they were Nicole's favorites. She wondered how Nicole knew **her** favorites.

Larger than the candy, there were also unopened packs of her favorite post-it notes she used for research. And sprinkled among the small candies were clippings of her name in the Purgatory Gazette: cheerleading successes, academic honors mentions, her Nicest Person in Purgatory photo at the Chamber of Commerce…

The large item curled in a soft roll was a t-shirt that said "Class of 2015" from the online college she'd been studying language and history. Waverly hadn't had an official graduation, just a certificate she'd printed herself. But this felt… real. Like she hadn't just been playing at going to college, but that she had something to really show for it.

It was just… **so nice**.

She hugged the t-shirt to her chest, though she spied a few water droplets darkening the fabric. Tears had started to stream down Waverly's cheeks. From her sitting position on the floor, Waverly extracted her phone to send Nicole a Snapchat of the murdered piñata.

Almost an immediate response from Nicole. ["You killed it! Hope it felt good"]

["It was all amazing… thank you so much"]

["Sorry if some of that came off creepy. I just didn't know if anyone had ever put your report card on the fridge, so to speak, to make a big deal of all the awesome stuff you've done and how hard you work."]

That gave Waverly pause.

 _No. Not really. Especially not when Daddy was alive or Momma was there. Gus and Curtis were always so tired and unsentimental. Wonderful people, just not the type to dwell on the past._

Waverly tapped out a few winking emojis. ["Just a little creepy. But I guess it's public record and all. Cop domain. …just stay off my Facebook and Instagram."]

["Yes, ma'am"]

Waverly found herself looking at the pictures of Nicole messing with her car again, that big smile returning. A nagging thought crept in.

["When did your shift really end?"]

A very long pause.

["…10AM."]

Lines of motherly concern crossed Waverly's face. ["Nicole! You worked a 12 hour shift then stuck around to do all this?! For me?"] Her eyes darted up to her own phone clock. 8PM. _Almost a full 24 hours awake for Nicole._

["That's why we have coffee, Waves. Push ourselves to the max."]

Waverly chewed her lower lip.

Nicole quickly tapped out a followup. ["So what's the verdict: surprises good or surprises bad? I know how much you like to plan things."]

["Surprises good"] She surprised herself at how quickly she responded. Especially since she usually hated surprises. Champ's were terrible, Gus had no patience for them, and Wynonna was one never-ending surprise that Waverly couldn't plan a second around.

A long pause found Waverly's thumbs hovering over the keypad. She would start to write something then immediately regret it and delete.

Nicole chimed in. ["I'm gonna go to sleep. Keep dozing off with my phone on my face. But next year, Waverly: we'll do something you pick. Sound good?"]

["That sounds amazing"]

["Good night, Waverly Earp. Happy 22nd birthday. I hope it wasn't just another Tuesday."]

 _Indeed_.

* * *

 **Ren's Note:**

 _Some canon timeline fuckery has to occur to make this work (since all the Wynonna Earp season one shit clearly happens in winter, like September to December). So let's say Wynonna shows up in the summer or so to give Nicole and Waverly the chance to cross paths a few (dozen) times. Which would also make Wynonna's 27th Earp Heir birthday earlier in the year too._

 _Pre-relationship WayHaught celebrating Waverly's birthday. I dunno, I think it kind of makes it more sweet as a Friend Gesture than as a More Than Friends thing._


	2. just coffee

Wherein Waverly and Nicole try to make good on being just friends following the spat in Nicole's cruiser in episode 1x09.

Sort of an AU? But more like a filler? ...It can be both! And all fluff. That's all I write, really: fluff one-shots.

* * *

 _"…Well maybe… just friends…"_

 _"Yea, sure, Waverly. Whatever you want."_

* * *

Coffee. They agreed to coffee. Shorty's Saloon. 3:00PM. Between lunch and dinner when the bar was closed. Waverly didn't feel like setting up for the night alone and Nicole had a few hours between her first and second shifts.

Easy. No pressure. Familiar spot.

 _Easy_.

Nicole Haught stood outside the diamond-shaped windows of Shorty's front doors. She shifted the duffle bag in her hand, a change of clothes she hadn't had time for at the station. She also held her white Stetson respectfully to her chest.

Instead of eagerness, Nicole's heart felt heavy.

It was all too familiar.

High school. College. The academy. Lather, rinse, repeat, Friends. Once in a blue moon did the cycle break. Just not this time, apparently.

It had been stupid to think this was gonna end any differently. All those little breadcrumbs of hope Nicole had been feeding on, those little smiles and glances and touches…

 _Stupid stupid stupid_. _I blew it._

If only she hadn't been distracted outside the station the other day. If only she had been **listening** to what Waverly was trying to confess, instead of frustrated about Purgatory being its weird Purgatory self. She did get the chance to apologize, but the damage was already done. And here Nicole was. Standing outside Shorty's to hang out with her Just Friend, Waverly Earp.

 _God. Damn. It._

Taking a deep breath, Nicole pressed into the heavy doors but they didn't budge. She rapped a knuckle against the window and waited. After a few seconds, she heard the click-chunk of a deadbolt. Enough time to smooth her frown into an easy-going smile.

Waverly poked her head out, relief etched in her features. She twisted at a white bar towel in her hands. "Oh thank God," she chirped with a broad smile. "I was afraid you weren't gonna show." Waverly held the heavy door open for Nicole to slip in before relocking the deadbolt behind them.

"Promise is a promise," Nicole replied, hopefully managing to mask her bitterness. She held up her duffle. "Mind if I change? Hoping to squeeze in a run before evening shift. Gotta be fresh for all that paperwork." She shot Waverly a mock-serious look and was rewarded with a smile.

"Of course!" Another chirp as Waverly tossed the bar towel over her left shoulder. She pointed at the back "Staff" door. "I'm almost done cleaning the coffee machine. How do you take yours?"

"I've heard good things about that Shorty's cappuccino. Two sugars?"

A sunshine smile with a finger-gun. "You got it," Waverly replied as she swept behind the bar over to a partly disassembled machine, chrome pieces glistening from a recent rinse.

The Staff room was hardly more than an over-sized closet with a safe for cash, an old computer for inventory, and a cracked window with an ashtray on the sill for smoke breaks. A shitty toilet latch secured the door, enough privacy for Nicole to peel off/fold her uniform shirt and khakis and swap over to running shoes, blue-striped pants, and a long-sleeve Purgatory Sheriff's Department henley.

Threading fingers through long red hair, Nicole pulled out the French braid and snapped a hair tie to her wrist as she exited the break room.

Back at the bar, Waverly was struggling to kneel on an unstable bar stool to reach a high cabinet. A tan wrist barely crested the edge, fingers feeling blindly as Waverly's tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in concentration. Her hockey-style Shorty's shirt rode up higher than normal, Nicole noticed, before dismissing that thought immediately.

 _"Just friends."_

Nicole strode up as she finished binding her hair in a simple ponytail. "Need some help?"

Hazel eyes lit up in response. "Could you? The lunch crew likes to hide the espresso grounds in the back to screw with me. Still as hilarious now as it was three years ago." Waverly rolled her eyes before spinning playfully on the bar stool on her knees.

"Three years, huh?" Nicole asked, light and conversational. She dropped her gym bag and Stetson on the counter then flipped the small wooden divider to reach the inside of the horseshoe-shaped bar.

Where the shorter Earp needed a stool, the Officer stood up on tip-toes before her fingers wrapped around a crinkling bag of coffee in the cabinet. When she turned, Nicole could have sworn she saw Waverly's gaze… somewhere else. For just a second.

 _"Just friends?"_

"Since I was 18." Waverly accepted the bag (which smelled of a rich dark roast) then measured out a few cups into the coffee machine. The device fired up with a steaming hiss accompanied by warm bubbling sounds.

Turning back to Nicole, Waverly started counting on her fingers. "Before here, I worked at JD's Restaurant down the street. Didn't pay as well, but more time to read. I bagged groceries at Safeway before that. And I delivered pizza for one shitty week when I was 16. Hated that job. And in between, I taught some summer gymnastics and dance classes at the rec center for really little kids. That was fun."

"Busy **and** popular girl," Nicole remarked as she leaned her backside against the bar. It was strange being on this side of the counter, like she didn't belong. Like they were equals instead of customer/server.

 _Like… friends?_

As she started steaming the milk, Waverly shrugged off the compliment. She shot Nicole a curious look. "What about you? What did Pre-Officer Nicole Haught do?" There was a strain to Waverly's smile, like it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Not as rich a life, I'm afraid."

"Try me." There it was. That warm smile returned as Waverly scooped sugar into a coffee mug.

"Well," Nicole started, her hands running along the counter edge behind her. "I worked at Tim Horton's almost every weekend from high school through university. …Not the same one. Transferred to a different store when I went away for college. But the same routine. Still remember all the menu numbers by heart." She smirked at another memory. "I was also a lifeguard for a miserable summer when I was 16."

Long hair swept over a shoulder as Waverly looked over at Nicole. "Ooo! How was that? I always wanted to lifeguard but the pool is too far away."

Reaching up, Nicole pulled at her ponytail and to show Waverly. "You see this red hair, right? I spent more time bathing myself in sunscreen than I did watching the pool. When one sunburn ended, another would begin. But I was trying to buy a car so I had to stick it out." She tossed the red strands back over her shoulder and shook her head. "I'm just happy I didn't get skin cancer… that I know of." She shot Waverly a theatrical, fearful look.

The smile on Waverly's face was hard to read. It was a soft, thoughtful crinkle. And just as a faint red started to touch her cheeks, she turned back to the coffee machine. Waverly deftly mixed the espresso into the cup before topping it with foam. She started to slide the mug over to Nicole, but suddenly thought better of it. Waverly snapped her fingers and started digging around under the bar.

Nicole leaned over to reach for the cup, but a hand appeared from below to gently slap her knuckle.

"Just a second! I keep forgetting I bought these." Waverly appeared a second later with a small container of cocoa powder and a couple of round stencils with simple designs. She offered the metal, paddle-like set to Nicole. "I saw 'em on Etsy. …I tried the foam pouring trick from YouTube, but I couldn't even do like a basic heart." She sighed and rolled the cocoa powder cylinder between her palms.

It was hard for Nicole to hide an endearing smile. Because she had just pictured Waverly hovering at the bar, making cup after cup of espresso and trying to artfully pour milk in. It also made her select a stencil without thinking it through.

Nicole held up the flat metal stencil of a heart, then had to bite her lip to keep the blush from spreading. The choice was not lost on Waverly, whose eyes widened.

Scrunching up her face, Nicole tried to hide the stencil behind her back. "Sorry. I didn't—I wasn't trying to—I just thought since you said you had trouble doing a heart the other way… this could count as a success." She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh.

 _God. Damn. It._

Waverly's voice was soft and small, but confident. "Okay."

Nicole's eyes shot open. The other woman wasn't awkward or blushing. She just held out her hand and offered that crinkling smile. "…okay?" Nicole repeated.

"The customer is always—mostly—right… right? And I said I owed you a coffee, right?" Waverly made a grabby motion with her hand.

"Fair enough," Nicole said with a small clearing of her throat.

With that, Waverly turned and dusted a ( _slightly lopsided_ ) heart over the top of the steaming cappuccino. She presented it back with a dramatic flourish. "And thus, the debt is repaid."

Nicole nodded her thanks and took a sip. She could feel the foam coat her upper lip, but it was hard to take her eyes off Waverly, who stared back intently.

"So? How is it?"

 _Warm. The cocoa powder adds a nice flavor. Sugar cuts the acid of the espresso. All in all, solid._

"Pretty good," Nicole said with a nonchalant shrug. She allowed herself another deep sip before swiping her thumb over her lips.

Waverly scowled. "'Pretty good?' That's it?" She crossed her arms over the bold SHORTY'S type on her jersey.

 _Well, we **are** just friends… Friends can be honest, right?_

Nicole tried to soften with a lilting question. "I've had better?"

An offended ( _if good-natured_ ) scoffing noise. "Your gratitude is overwhelming."

"I'm kidding. It **is** really good. A good pick-me-up before my run. **Thank you** , Waverly." A pause. "…I **have** had better, though. If I'm being completely honest." Nicole allowed herself a teasing smile.

Waverly poured herself the rest of the espresso, unruffled by the critique. "Where at?" She wrinkled her nose in thought with one eye skyward. "I think the best coffee I've had is in the city at the fancy hotel we had for Prom. **So** good with like homemade whip cream and everything."

"There's this **amazing** café in Las Vegas where…"

 _Oh._

 _No, we are **not** going into **that** right now. Not on a first—er, not on a chill friends hangout between friends and only friends._

Nicole cleared her throat. "…well, they made a mean mocha cappuccino."

"Did it have a fancy—?" Waverly trailed off as she made a gesture over the top of Nicole's coffee.

"…It did. The logo of the café with lots of swirls."

That faux-scowl returned. "Damn it. I knew it. Back to YouTube, I guess." A smile curled across Waverly's cheek as she patted the cocoa container over her own coffee, this time a sprinkled star on top. She settled in next to Nicole, mirroring her lean against the bar counter. They were just far apart to not be touching.

"I've never been to Vegas," Waverly said thoughtfully with a loud sip. "Never left the Ghost River Triangle, actually. Been here my whole life."

"Not even for, like, a family vacation? Or a school trip?"

A derisive laugh in reply. Waverly's nose wrinkled with the barest hint of a scowl. "Just to the city. School trips to the museum or the stockyard for 4H stuff. And no family vacations. Daddy died when I was 6 and Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis were too busy with Shorty's or their farm to bother with something like that. Though now with Uncle Curtis gone…" She trailed off, long hair slipping over her cheeks as her head tilted down.

Reaching out, Nicole gently touched Waverly's wrist. She was slow and careful, trying to avoid the awkwardness that happened in her cruiser. Two soft strokes before the hand returned to Nicole's coffee mug.

 _We should go somewhere_ , Nicole wanted to say. She could even mean it in a friendly way… sort of. Mostly. Maybe.

"I never did much as a kid either," Nicole said instead. "Didn't start seeing any of the world til I graduated college. And that was mostly training camps and emergency management excursions sponsored by the government."

After a few moments in silence, Nicole nudged Waverly's side with a gentle elbow. "Well, **I'm** glad you stuck around Purgatory."

Waverly gave a small sniff as she reached up to push her hair back. "Me too" was barely audible past a soft smile.

An alarm on Nicole's phone chimed, a reminder to start her workout soon so she'd have time to return to the station to shower before paperwork. But she wasn't quite ready to leave just yet.

"Gotta go?"

"…I've got time." Nicole took a slow sip, smiling into the cup. "So, what **is** a day in the life of Waverly Earp?"

Chuckling, Waverly stroked her chin. "With Wynonna? I don't even know anymore."

"Hard to plan around?"

" **Impossible** ," Waverly confirmed with a sigh. "Used to just be yoga, study, Shorty's, sleep. And occasionally I'd go out with—well…"

Another nose wrinkle and tight smile. Waverly certainly did that a lot, each with a different meaning. This one seemed a mix between embarrassment and a scowl.

 _…Champ. Of course._

Waverly did not elaborate. Instead, she took a deep sip of her coffee before continuing. "…but with Wynonna and Dolls and their coming and going all hours of the day and night… Some days I'm grateful I make it to work, if only for the familiar routine." Her face fell as she glanced behind them.

Nicole followed her gaze to an empty booth near the door with a large spread of paperwork. Official looking documents were arranged in haphazard stacks.

"Anyway." Waverly cleared her throat and pushed up from the counter. "I'm keeping you from your run." A tired, evasive smile as Waverly busied herself with stowing the cocoa and stencils back under the bar.

Rumbling out an "Okay," Nicole relinquished her empty coffee mug to the busy woman. As she started to gather her duffle and Stetson, a snapping noise turned Nicole's attention.

"Hey! What are you doing for dinner?" Waverly stood with her arms crossed, hip thrust out, expression neutral.

 _Oh!_

It was hard for Nicole not to stare back, heart stuck in her throat. "I—I was… I don't—"

Waving a menu, Waverly skipped over to Nicole. "You'll probably be hungry after a run, yea? I could ask Martin to fire up the grill early so you could take something back to the station?"

 _Oh…_

"Oh. That would be… really great, actually. Lunch was forever ago."

 _Not as great as—well._

Waverly smiled broadly. "And you could save the trip to your car and just pick your stuff up when you get back, right?"

Finally regaining her composure, Nicole managed a smile of her own. "You just want an excuse to try on my hat."

"Maaaaaybe," Waverly returned with a singsong. She walked her fingertips over to the white cowboy hat. But instead of trying it on, she stowed both under the bar in a clean, safe spot. "…not while you're looking, obviously."

"Obviously."

Surveying the menu, Nicole asked, "Which is your favorite?"

"Oh! Hmmm!" Her long hair swayed with her head-tilt. "Probably the nachos, though only because it's like the only vegetarian thing on there." A nose wrinkle and a shrug.

 _Vegetarian. Noted._

"Pass," Nicole replied with a grin. She pointed at an item under SANDWICHES. "How's the chicken salad?"

"I'm told it's great. I'll get Marty on it when he's up from his nap."

Pulling her wallet from her pocket, Nicole waved a $10 bill.

Waverly shrugged it off. "On the house. I know the manager." She winked and flicked a towel at Nicole to vacate the bar. "Get going, Haught! No rest for the wicked!" And just like that, Waverly pushed through the double doors to the kitchen and was gone.

Folding the bill, Nicole tucked it into the large glass (empty) tip jar before pulling her wireless ear buds from a zippered side pocket. A hard guitar riff started up in her playlist, "Bury Me With My Guns On" escorting Nicole down the Purgatory street.

* * *

Nicole rapped on the glass once more, out of breath and feeling the chill of the air through her henley. She smiled broadly at the sound of the deadbolt. That smile froze on Nicole's face when she was greeted not by Waverly, but a stern older woman.

"Mrs. MacCready."

"Officer Haught," the woman returned cooly, dark eyes hard. She did allow Nicole entrance, but with sharp, abrupt movements. Gus called for Waverly, who was apparently in the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence as Gus headed to the closest booth, paperwork waiting at the table. She continued writing for a few moments, allowing Nicole to quietly catch her breath and rub the chill from her arms.

"So."

"Yes, ma'am?" Nicole replied with respect, stretching out her calves on the wooden steps. She smiled awkwardly.

Gus did not return her smile. "You know, Champ used to come around. Begging for freebies. Free food. Free booze." It was a loaded, simple statement. She glanced over at Nicole significantly before returning to her papers.

Defensiveness burned in Nicole's chest. "I'm not Champ, ma'am. I offered to pay. Waverly wouldn't let me." She gestured to the tips jar, her folded $10 bill from earlier balanced upright.

Gus's dark eyes flicked over to the jar, an impressed pull at her cheeks before her stoic expression took over. "Hm."

The comparison was **not** lost on Nicole. And it felt like she'd just passed a test of some sort. Especially since this was the longest conversation she'd ever had with the matron of Shorty's.

A shout drew Nicole's attention to the kitchen. "You're back!" Waverly grinned wide, holding a styrofoam container in triumph. "Perfect timing! Just pulled the fries from the deep fryer." A plastic bag rustled at her wrist as she bagged the container with a few packets of ketchup.

With Gus watching, Nicole pushed away the temptation to go back to the familiarity behind the bar. She fixed a smile to her cheeks and met Waverly at the apex of the horseshoe counter. Nicole's duffle and Stetson were already waiting for her.

"Have a good run?" Waverly asked.

 _No. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I ran away so hard from this place that I was out of breath for 10 minutes… then I had to run all the way back._

 _Lather, rinse, repeat._

"It was fine, thank you. Everything okay here?"

Waverly's voice was a warm chirp. "Perfect! Thanks for keeping me company earlier." She patted Nicole's collection and pushed it over. "Good luck with all that paperwork tonight!"

" **Thank you** , Waverly," Nicole said warmly. "For—well—everything." Her fingertips accidentally brushed Waverly's wrist, but the woman didn't flinch. In fact, she smiled wider.

Setting her Stetson on her head, Nicole tipped it at Gus MacCready as she padded up the steps. The woman's chin raised in acknowledgement, but she returned to her documents.

Outside in her cruiser, Nicole opened the passenger door to stow her food and duffle. A flash of pink caught Nicole's attention out of the corner of her eye. Inside the bag stuck to the Styrofoam container was a post-it note. On it was Waverly's SnapChat handle with a doodle of a cowboy hat.

Nicole smiled and settled into the driver's seat before pulling out her phone. Tapping into her own app, she added a "Waverly95" and sent an invite from "NHaught."

Nicole turned on the cruiser on and angled towards the municipal building (a quick 5 minute ride a few streets over). She would have plenty of time for a shower and change before starting on her evening work. The day off tomorrow would be a welcome distraction from… all of this.

Except her phone pinged as she pulled into the private lot. New SnapChat from "Waverly95."

A series of images streamed onto Nicole's phone. All of Waverly at Shorty's in her Stetson.

Waverly at the piano pretending to play.

Waverly making a face next to the grainy image of Wyatt Earp, her finger a pretend-moustache.

Waverly with an arm around Gus, who looked to be mid-conversation and confused by the phone in her face.

Waverly pursing her lips with the hat tilted over one eye.

Waverly pretending to talk to a beer mug wearing the Stetson, a fake laugh frozen on her face.

 _Wait._

 _Wait wait wait._

 _…What?! **What** was that second to last one?!_

But it was gone, the app timer ticked down to zero.

 _God. Damn. It._


	3. just blowing off steam

Wherein Waverly and Nicole take a little trip over to the city together. Totally casual friendly bonding between two friends. Like ya do.

Complete with tasty treats, hair braiding, and shooting things. Still not a date. Still hovering around 1x09-ish, pre-Willa timeframe.

Fair warning: they are DORKS.

* * *

Waverly Earp stalked down the steps of the municipal building, both frustrated and disappointed.

 _"Black Badge Consultant" my ass._

She was tired of the sidelines. She wanted to do more. **Be** more.

Waverly had **helped** , dammit. She was the Keeper of the Bones, **dammit**.

Well, was. **Was** the Keeper of the Bones… since said bones were a shattered mess buried next to the barn.

And the owner of said bones was who Wynonna and Doc had gallivanted off to contend with: Constance Clootie the Stone Witch. Wynonna had said something about heading to the salt flat area south of the Ghost River Triangle. Always with a "Take it easy, babygirl" and a kiss to her hair before leaving without Waverly.

 _Argh_.

Waverly had hoped to capitalize on her sister's absence. Dolls would be at the BBD office. Maybe a little schmoozing could get her in good with the Man in Charge and the chance for her to Do More.

She had prepped to the nines for schmoozing: a tin full of homemade banana muffins, a tall thermos of her special hot chocolate, and a fat folder of research (the Latin all impeccably translated).

Except in true Dolls fashion, he had ignored the first two offerings, accepted the research, and shut the glass door in her face. It took all of Waverly's remaining dignity not to blow her stack in the middle of the station. Or throw the thermos through the window.

A few deep breaths had calmed Waverly down, but only because of her next genius idea: Nicole. The police station was down the hall and Waverly came bearing gifts.

 _Win-win._

And, if Waverly was being 100% honest with herself… she had already set aside a few muffins to share with Officer Haught. It was a warm thought. One she'd had more than once that morning.

Except…

"Oh yea, Haught was in earlier. You just missed her. She's off today," Lonnie said, his nose still buried in the file on his desk. He suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. "…Do I smell banana muffins?"

Sighing, Waverly had set a muffin into Lonnie's eager hands. She dropped another off on Sheriff Nedley's desk (who was on the phone and gestured angrily before seeing what Waverly had brought). He didn't **smile** exactly, but gruffly nodded in acceptance.

After pulling on her ear muffs to brace against the chill, Waverly had stomped out the door down the steps. Which only served to make her feel smaller. Why was she expected to "take it easy" after fracturing her hand when Wynonna had been **kidnapped by a serial killer and held hostage** but was totally fine to get back to it?!

 _Argh!_

Waverly was just tired of being left out all the frickin' time. Left out of decisions, left out of missions, just… left out. And taking care of things, the one thing she was **super** good at… no one seemed to notice. Or wouldn't let her. Or got by just fine without her.

She started grinding her heel at the cracked ice on the pavement with her boots. The crackling under her boot was satisfying, but it was a short walk back to her Jeep in the side lot (with not a lot of ice in between to destroy).

As Waverly scowled and reached for the keys in her pocket, she felt her phone vibrate. Pulling the device out, she saw a new SnapChat message.

From Nicole.

Smiling brightly, Waverly opened the picture to see… herself. As she was now, just at a distance from a side angle. She jerked her head up to skim the parking lot.

Two rows over, Nicole was waving a gloved hand, green scarf tight around her neck. Her hair was up in its usual French braid, but her clothes were civilian; jeans, calf-length riding boots, and a puffy navy blue coat with a touch of blue fur along the collar. She stood by the boot of her police cruiser, trunk ajar.

Waverly smiled so wide it hurt, relief surging in her chest. As she padded over, Waverly tugged her ear muffs down to her neck and could finally hear a distant shout.

"—verly! Hey!" It didn't sound like the first time Nicole had called her name.

Waverly almost barreled into Nicole with a hug, but stopped herself at the last second.

 _Uhhh? What was that about?_

Nicole flashed Waverly a wide, dimpled smile. "Sorry for the accidental stalker pic. I tried calling to you but you seemed… distracted." The corners of Nicole's mouth pulled down in a dramatic frown as she leaned to the side and looked beyond Waverly. Following her gaze, Waverly saw the shattered patches of ice in her wake.

"Uh… it's fine," Waverly said with a sheepish laugh, vapor clouding around her mouth. "I was just… well. Dolls being Dolls." She trailed off with a shrug.

A knowing nod from Nicole. "Ah. Say no more."

Brightening, Waverly bounced on her toes. "I was actually looking for **you**."

"Oh yea? What for?" Nicole tilted her head curiously.

 _Oh! Um… …wait **why** I was looking for her?_

Waverly stared at Nicole, her mind blanking out for some reason. Her mind did that a **lot** lately. "Uhh… Just… to say hey?"

The woman smiled back with a nod. "Well, hey yourself." She elbowed the trunk closed with a dull **clunk**.

The sound made Waverly jump slightly, the thermos in her hand sloshing. She was finally aware again that she was holding hot chocolate and a tin of her famous, amazing banana muffins.

 _…duh!_

"No, wait! **Not** just to say hey." Tucking the thermos into the crook of her elbow, Waverly popped open the tin with a flourish. "Ta da!" There was a pair of obvious gaps in the collection, but otherwise nearly a dozen muffins glistened in the container.

Another pull to Nicole's lips, but this time as a baffled ( _but impressed_ ) smile. "You did this for me?" She looked over the batch and selected a particularly large one.

 _Yes._

"Um, technically to bribe Dolls. Which didn't work. …You were the ideal audience, though!" Waverly scrunched up her nose, half-apologetic.

Nicole gave a dry laugh. "Hey, his loss, right?" She bit into the muffin, crumbs flecking her black gloves with yellow. Her eyes bulged as Nicole took a second bite, voice muffled. "Holy **shit** , his loss! These are **amazing** , Waves!" A third bite followed a fourth.

Waverly beamed back, more pleased than she should have been. She wondered if she would have been this happy if Dolls **had** liked 'em… and immediately knew the answer was a No. "Thank you!"

"Uh, I should be thanking **you** ," Nicole corrected as she easily finished off the muffin and tried to swipe at her mouth with bulky gloves.

Without thinking, Waverly reached up and brushed at Nicole's chin with her bare fingertips. The other woman froze. Aware of the line she had just crossed, Waverly retracted her hand with a blush.

 _What happened to just friends?!_

 _Argh!_

They both cleared their throats and looked away. Nicole murmured a thank you and blotted a thumb at the corner of her mouth.

Awkwardly lifting her elbow, Waverly gestured to the thermos to change the subject. "Also: hot chocolate! No marshmallows, but still my secret recipe." She winked conspiratorially at Nicole.

The woman smiled, but shook her head as she checked her watch. "Can't right now. Got somewhere to be."

 _Oh. Of course. Everyone had somewhere to be._

 _Except me._

Waverly was disappointed. She started to back away to stammer out a cheerful ( _if insincere_ ), "Well I—I won't keep you—I'll just…"

But Nicole interrupted her. "Hey, what are you doing right now?" Her face was soft and serious.

Thinking of Wynonna then Dolls (then Gus), Waverly had to resist the urge to scowl. Instead, she just shook her head. "Nothing. I'm off today. Maybe pick up more groceries on the way back to the Homestead, otherwise…" A shrug.

The woman smiled back, her voice gentle ( _hopeful?)._ "Would you be up for a little road trip?"

 _Yes._

"Where to?" Waverly asked.

"The city? Well, just outside the city."

 _Yes._

"To do what?"

Nicole blinked at Waverly with a head tilt, her voice dry and teasing. "I don't know about you? …But I've had kind of a shitty week—shitty **month** , actually. Wanna blow off some steam with me?"

It was a resounding _Yes_. A terrified, intrigued, excited, nervous, heart-pounding _Yes_.

Waverly stared back. A flush immediately hit her cheeks, and she felt her throat tighten. "I—well—not that… uhh…"

Brown eyes widened in surprise when Nicole stopped to think about how that sounded. "Oh! Shit! No! I wasn't—Shit." She sighed and pressed a gloved hand to cover her eyes.

Hand still over her eyes, Nicole popped open her cruiser's trunk latch and gestured to the boot. Looking down, Waverly saw two large hard cases and one smaller one, along with boxes of ammunition.

"I **meant** … I was going to the gun range near the city. Shoot some targets? Work out that aggression with a little state-sanctioned violence?" She shot Waverly a cheesy, innocent grin between her splayed fingers over her eyes. She elbowed the trunk closed once more.

 _Oh!_

 _…Oh._

"Oh." Waverly scrunched up her face in consideration. "Sure you wouldn't mind? I don't wanna be a bother if this is your alone time…" She felt herself stepping back in polite evasion.

Nicole took a small step forward, her breath a wisp of warm vapor on Waverly's face. "I wouldn't mind. I'd… appreciate it if you came."

"…then I'd like to come." It came out a lot softer than Waverly had intended.

Nicole was pleased. She slid along the passenger side of her cruiser and opened the door chivalrously. "Milady," Nicole said with a teasing lilt.

"Milady," Waverly repeated back as she settled into the seat, the door closing on her right with a faint thud. She set the thermos into the cup holder and the tin in her lap. Her purse she shifted from her right shoulder to the floor, the strap snagging on her long, loose hair for a second.

Nicole entered the car a few seconds later, buckling into the driver's seat with a click. "I have a lane reserved at 11 for an hour. Then maybe we could do lunch after if you want?"

"Sounds good to me!" Nodding, Waverly waggled the hot cocoa enticingly at Nicole. At Nicole's return nod, Waverly poured a small cup of the (still steaming) cocoa and passed it over.

She had to pull her gloves off with her teeth to accept, but Nicole managed a sip while deftly guiding the car to the main road out of town. She made a delighted humming noise in the back of her throat before draining the cup in one go. Waverly offered a refill that Nicole eagerly obliged with grin. "And here I thought I was gonna have to pick up something on the way into the city. I need to run into you more often, Waverly Earp."

"I can't promise every encounter will include banana muffins," Waverly retorted, soft with faux-apology, as she pulled out one for herself and took a big bite. It was a good batch, indeed. One of her best.

"Oh. Well…" Nicole wrinkled her nose and trailed off. She shot Waverly a dry grin and a wink. "I **guess** that's fine."

"It **better** be," Waverly warned, smiling in spite of herself.

 _It was… nice._

The cruiser was warm (the police radio off for once). Nicole seemed relaxed, her body leaning into her window with an arm thrown up to guide the wheel with a thumb while her right hand palmed the thermos lid. This time, Nicole slowly sipped her second cup of cocoa. Steam wafted around her chin. The car smelled like vanilla, chocolate and bananas.

 _Really, **really** nice._

A minute, then another passed in silence. Partially awkward, partially pleasant.

"How's Wynonna doing?" Nicole finally asked.

"She's… Wynonna."

A breath of a laugh. "Right."

"…She's good, considering. Thank you for asking. Off doing her Wynonna things, dealing with everything in her own Wynonna way."

 _Heard she got kicked out of Shorty's the other night. Wasted to high heaven then hit the strip clubs. Top notch coping mechanism(s)._

"Like she does," Nicole agreed. Her gaze flicked over to Waverly, voice low and significant. "How are **you** doing?"

 _Terrible. Slowly coming apart at the seams. Everything's going out of control. Everyone's leaving. Uncle Curtis. Shorty. Gus when she sells Shorty's. Maybe Wynonna. Hopefully not Wynonna._

Sighing, Waverly crammed the rest of the muffin into her mouth to avoid answering immediately. "It's been a shitty week—month—for me, too. I think Gus found a buyer. It's real. She's selling Shorty's."

"Wave... I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Waverly cleared her throat, eager to change the subject. She glanced over at Nicole, taking note of the fading scar above her left eyebrow. "How are you feeling? Back on full duty yet?"

A quick head-shake. "One more week of paper-pushing. Nedley's orders." Nicole gave a thoughtful pause before rolling her right shoulder slightly. "Still get tired at times. I guess it's a lingering thing from the exposure. And, y'know, dying for a little bit. But… almost back to normal."

Nicole's voice was light and nonchalant, but it sent a surge of panic into Waverly's chest.

She remembered the hospital. Nicole in that bed. Her brow bloodied, skin pale… _"Found freezing in a ditch."_ Plus, Wynonna missing… The memory made Waverly shudder for several reasons.

A question from Nicole brought Waverly out of her thoughtful daze. "…Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer."

Chewing her cheek, Waverly squirmed in her seat a little. She gave a nod when she saw Nicole glance over at her.

"You don't have to get into specifics, but… do you know what's going on in Purgatory? Like, **on** -on."

Waverly scratched her fingernails along the edge of the tin, carefully considering an answer. She opted for a half-truth. "Sort of."

"Can you tell me anything about it?"

She sighed. "…No. Not really."

"I thought so." Nicole kneaded at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is there anything I—as in the Purgatory Sheriff's Department—need to know? Or is there anything we can do to help?"

Waverly felt a brief surge of importance. Like for a moment, she **was** the "Black Badge Consultant" speaking for the BBD. … _What would Dolls say?_ "Just keep giving the weird stuff to Wynonna and Dolls. It doesn't seem like it, but they are taking care of it. She's—they're the only ones who can." A small slip of the truth.

"…Okay." Nicole nodded, eyes on the road. A long pause, before, "Is there anything **I** can do to help?"

"Do you mean 'I' as in—?"

"…Just me. Nicole. Is there anything I can do to help **you** , Waverly?"

 _Yes._

"…No. You can't. But… **this..**." Waverly gestured to the car and the open road. She sighed with relief. "… **This** is nice. But thank you." A pause of her own. "…I hope I can tell you everything someday."

 ** _Everything_ **_everything._

"I hope so, too."

Returning the thermos lid to Waverly, Nicole flicked her thumb over a knob to turn on the radio. She made an offering gesture to Waverly. "Any requests?"

Waverly smiled and switched over to the country station. Mostly because it was the only one that didn't get staticky on the way to the city (the pop station tower was in the opposite direction and was super unreliable). Nicole seemed to know the song, her thumb lightly drumming on the steering wheel to the chorus.

 _Knew she was a country girl._

Pouring herself a cup of cocoa, Waverly savored a long taste of the sweet chocolate. A second sip surprised her, because she vaguely tasted vanilla. She studied the cup and saw a faint lip imprint on the metal.

 _A country girl who wears vanilla lip gloss._

* * *

They arrived at the gun range shortly before 11AM. Waverly helped by shouldering a box of ammunition and the flat, wide shotgun case. Nicole hefted the pistol and rifle cases plus the other box of ammo.

It was an outdoor range with a handful of patrons already practicing. The air was filled with loud, rhythmic popping sounds and the scent of acrid gunpowder. There was an occasional whirring noise from a paper target returning down the electronic rail for an owner to examine their accuracy.

Inside the small rental building, Nicole flashed her badge at the clerk and gestured to her haul. The middle-aged man just nodded and made a two-fingered come-hither motion for the women to show their IDs and sign a boilerplate waiver. The man passed over pairs of safety glasses and neon-orange ear protectors for the both of them along with a stack of paper targets.

Finding their lane at the far end of the range (thankfully away from the few other people), they started to unload their haul. Nicole and Waverly both chuckled how grateful they were for the hot chocolate, as the outdoor chill was already starting to slowly seep in.

"I've never actually been to a gun range before," Waverly remarked as she set aside her goggles and ear protectors to get to work braiding back her long hair.

"No?" Nicole asked while placing her Smith & Wesson Model 5946 pistol, a Remington 870 shotgun, and a bolt action rifle Waverly didn't recognize on the lane table.

"Uncle Curtis taught me how to shoot the old-fashioned way: a shotgun and a line of tin cans. Knock 'em down then put 'em back up and start over. Lather, rinse, repeat." A small ache shot up Waverly's wrist while she was pulling her hair into sections. She ignored it.

A breathy laugh from Nicole. "Right. Of course. I was warned about you small town girls: all armed and extremely dangerous."

Before Waverly could make a smart retort, pain in her wrist suddenly flared all the way to her fingertips and forced a grunt through her nose. She tried to shake the hand out but every time she flexed into that same position, the ache returned. Waverly groaned in frustration.

"Need some help?" Nicole asked behind her, a paper target with a blue silhouette in her hands.

"Just… having a little trouble. Guess my hand is still working out the kinks from that …stripper attack… on the Homestead."

"Right," Nicole said. She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Trying a third time and groaning again in failure, Waverly rubbed her wrist with her other thumb. "And I probably hit the yoga mat too soon after finishing physical therapy." She smiled sheepishly.

"Need some help?" Nicole asked again. Gesturing to her own French braid, Nicole wiggled her fingers. "Not my first rodeo."

Waverly nodded, though she almost immediately regretted it when Nicole leaned into her personal space. The woman stood on Waverly's left side just in her peripheral vision, fingers running through her hair, breath hot on her cheek. Nicole was **so** close.

 _Too close?_

 _Not close enough?_

She felt fingertips brush her ear and cheek before a muttered apology from Nicole. The woman was focused… almost annoyingly so. Waverly tried to catch her eye with a smile, but Nicole's glance her way was just the barest flicker before she returned to her work. It only took a minute for the taller woman to interlace a braid through Waverly's waist-length hair to a simple twist over the left shoulder.

When Nicole finally stepped away, Waverly thought she saw a hint of a blush to Nicole's cheeks. Examining the handiwork, Waverly shot her a teasing grin. "My hero! Thank you!" She put on her own goggles and ear protectors and flipped through the stack of paper targets.

Nicole looked down, her smile soft. She couldn't meet Waverly's eyes for some reason. "You're welcome." Clearing her throat, Nicole asked if she could go first, goggles and ear protectors at the ready.

It was like watching a quick, efficient machine. Nicole's motions from loading the pistol magazine, clicking the safety and pulling back the hammer were a blur as she set into a wide, solid stance. Both hands just barely bounced with each smooth shot. The blue silhouette in the distance was quickly made see-through from the tight cluster of bullet holes over the head and heart. Nicole burned through three clips in rapid succession.

Returning the target with the lane keypad, Waverly wolf-whistled in appreciation. "Remind me not to get on your bad side." She ran her fingers over the shredded paper, slightly warm to the touch, before setting up a pristine new target and sending it flapping down the lane.

Nicole loaded the shotgun and offered it to Waverly. "Since this seems to be your preferred weapon of choice, Earp."

"Thanks, Haught!" It was heavier and bulkier than Waverly's small Winchester at home, the large stock digging into her arm pit. It took some adjusting (with Nicole's help) to nestle the shotgun tightly between her shoulder and collarbone. Luckily, the bend to her wrist wasn't as severe at this angle.

The first shot went wide and almost threw Waverly backwards off her feet. She waved off Nicole's concern and planted herself more firmly. The next 5 shots reverberated down to Waverly's toes, but completely decimated the target. She found a satisfaction in the hard recoil, especially as each buckshot spray took a chunk out of the paper silhouette.

 _Eat shit, shit-eaters._

Nicole stood open-mouthed behind Waverly. "I—I think you got 'im."

Returning the shotgun to the table, Waverly fist-pumped as she pulled off the strip of paper that remained of her target. "Oh man! That felt amazing! I see why you wanted to come here." She rubbed at her shoulder where she could feel a small bruise spreading. But Waverly didn't care. She was proud of herself as she beamed back at Nicole.

Nicole shared her smile. She held up her phone. "Wanna get a picture together? Remember the moment?"

Waverly pressed into Nicole's side as the woman stuck her phone out in front of them. Waverly glanced over at Nicole. The woman's dimpled cheeks were flushed from the cold, but her entire expression was relaxed and happy. Waverly knew she was staring.

 _She was just so—so…_

There was a clicking noise when Waverly realized Nicole had taken the picture.

"Wait! I wasn't looking. Do another one!"

Confused, Nicole thumbed over again as Waverly tilted her head into the crook of the woman's neck and smiled widely this time. Another click.

It went back and forth like this for the next hour. Just laughter, gunshots and selfies. Waverly practiced shooting and reloading the shotgun, plus got slightly more comfortable with Nicole's pistol. Nicole focused on the rifle, though her accuracy was impeccable with all three weapons. "Top of my class at the Academy," Nicole would explain with a shrug.

As they were wrapping up, Waverly got a text from Wynonna to meet at the Homestead ASAP.

[Wynonna says: "To celebrate putting on ice that witch who killed Mattie and made my baby sister scissor a stripper"]

[Wynonna says: "Whoa say that five times fast. Sister scissor stripper"]

Waverly sighed. She did actually want to talk to her sister, but she found herself reluctant to cut the trip with Nicole short.

"Go, Earp," Nicole said as she stowed the last empty ammo box into her trunk. "I dunno about **you** , but **I** feel a lot better. Go be with your sister. She probably needs it." She winked and patted the belly of her heavy coat. "Plus, I'm full of banana muffins and hot chocolate anyway. I think I'm gonna have to move up that nap I booked for later."

"An important line-item to pencil in," Waverly solemnly agreed.

A ping of a new text message. [Wynonna says: "BOOZE BOOZE BOOZE BOOBS BOOZE"]

Sighing again, Waverly nodded. "She probably does need me. Sooner rather than later, depending on how early she started. Ticking time bomb."

The drive back was a little quieter. Nicole forwarded Waverly the collection of photos she'd taken over their gun range adventure, which Waverly giddily reviewed. They shared memories of guns. Waverly's were mostly with Uncle Curtis (she avoided mentioning Willa or Daddy), or the boar hunt that converted her to a vegetarian. Nicole's stories circled around the police academy with epic trick-shots and clumsy recruits.

Halfway back to Purgatory, Waverly's thumb kept returning to the first selfie they'd taken where she hadn't been paying attention. But Waverly wasn't looking at Nicole in the photo, she was studying herself.

She had never seen that expression on herself before. Open and adoring and just… **happy**. Happy to be there. Happy to be with **her**. A few thumb-taps later and she had a new phone wallpaper without even thinking. She snapped the phone closed.

The smell of chocolate and bananas had faded, but there was still that vanilla.

As they pulled back into the municipal parking lot, Waverly was reluctant to leave the car.

"So."

"So," Nicole echoed as she hit the trunk latch. "I'm gonna go return these badboys to the armory then head home. You off to the Homestead?"

Waverly checked her phone. "Still need groceries. Guess this moves up that pasta I was gonna make. By a few hours."

Nicole's eyes were wide with sympathy. "Godspeed with that."

"I had a great time with you, Nicole."

"Me too," Nicole said with a smile. Her eyes drifted lower and she bit her lip.

 _Yes._

"What?" Waverly asked.

A finger pointed at the tin. "Are you gonna finish those?" A pause as Nicole's nose wrinkled. "Or… I guess you'd give 'em to Wynonna." She flashed Waverly a teasing grin.

 _Oh._

Waverly pulled out one (of the four) remaining muffins and passed the entire tin over to Nicole.

"Are you sure?" Her smile was incredulous.

 _And totally worth it._

"Of course!" Waverly chirped back. "Ideal audience, right?" She gently set the muffin into her purse as she climbed out of the car. Leaning back in slightly, Waverly ran her fingertips down the side braid Nicole had done for her. "Rain-check on that lunch? I owe you for the range."

Nicole started to disagree, but seemed to think better of it. A slow smile spread. "…Yes. I'll try to give you two or three days to plan it this time."

"That's all I need."


	4. just the beginning

Wherein Waverly shares a favorite spot with her favorite friend, Nicole.

A beautiful sunrise, a cup of coffee, a good conversation… what else do you need?

* * *

It was less the doorbell that woke Nicole Haught and more the launching of her terrified cat off her thigh. Alarmed mewling accompanied sharp pinpricks of hind claws as the ginger cat disappeared down the hall (presumably to the hall closet: Calamity Jane's favorite hiding place).

Nicole started to swear after the damn cat, but decided it wasn't worth the effort it as she sat up in bed. Exhaling in a slow hiss, Nicole ran her fingertips over the clusters of scratches on her thigh. (If only this was the first time this had happened… or if only it was to be the last.)

 _Perfect. Just perfect._

The doorbell chimed again. Reaching for her phone, Nicole noted the time: 5:36AM. The darkness outside her bedroom curtains confirmed the early hour.

 _What the hell?_

Nicole padded down the hall in socks, flannel pajama bottoms and a light long-sleeve shirt, shivering slightly against the settled chill of the rest of her house (her bedroom had the luxury of a small heater). She vaguely thought about grabbing her gun, but dismissed that idea (considering burglars don't usually ring first).

Approaching the front door, Nicole stepped into a pair of tan, hard-soled house slippers. She clicked on the porch light before throwing open the door, revealing…

 _Waverly Earp?_

"Good morning!" Waverly chirped, jostling a pair of travel coffee cups enticingly.

The old porch lamp threw harsh yellows across a Waverly Earp dressed in warm-up pants, a dark crop top and her usual heavy leopard-print coat. Her hair was tied in a side ponytail, a light dusting of make-up accented her eyes and lips, and a range of gold bracelets jangled down both wrists.

 _Of **course** it would be Waverly. And as "Waverly" as ever, even this early._

Stepping onto her door mat, Nicole rubbed her arms against the cold (and resisted the temptation to smooth down her hair). "Uh, morning? I thought—" Nicole paused and looked at her phone again. "—I thought we were meeting before my shift at 9."

A sunshine-sweet reply. "We are!"

"Oh…" Nicole blinked blearily, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. The distant sky was starting to purple slightly with the dawn, but stars still twinkled in the ( _very early_ ) morning twilight.

Waverly's smile faltered. "It's not too early, is it? I was afraid it would be…" She took a step back, eyes apologetic. "I—I wanted it to be a surprise. I'm not great with surprises but I thought it was a good plan and I…" A line appeared between her eyebrows.

Nicole interrupted her with a hand wave. "Waves."

Snapping her mouth shut, Waverly tilted her head.

"Sorry. It's not too early. I just wasn't expecting you. Neither was CJ." Nicole smiled at Waverly as warmly as she could before shooting a mock-glare over her shoulder and raising her voice. "Who is a **worthless** protector, by the way!" Through her pajama pants, she rubbed at the small burning scratches down her right thigh.

The worry line smoothed from Waverly's brow. "Cats usually are! …the protect **ee** rather than the protect **or** , is what I meant. Not that Calamity Jane is worthless."

"Oh, but she **is** worthless," Nicole corrected with a good-natured smile.

Stepping forward, Waverly offered Nicole one of the coffees. She made a nodding head motion. "Check it out!"

Confused, Nicole slowly accepted the cup. At another enthusiastic head nod from Waverly, she moved a hand to the plastic lid. And with a final confirmation nod, Nicole popped off the lid. Inside appeared to be a delicious Shorty's cappuccino with one difference: mixed with the espresso was milk-foam drizzled into a picture-perfect heart shape.

Waverly's smile was broad and proud. "I've been practicing! Just for you!"

That smile was infectious. Nicole found herself more pleased at the gesture than she should have been. "You have! It came out awesome! …wait." She looked at her phone again, then the coffee, then up and down at Waverly. "…how long have you been up?"

With a sheepish shrug, Waverly mumbled, "Like 5… 4… 3…AM?" Her eyes didn't quite meet Nicole's as she took a long sip of her own coffee.

"Waverly…" Nicole warned.

"…Okay, so I haven't **technically** gone to sleep yet."

"Waverly!"

Waving a dismissive hand, Waverly stole another sip of her coffee. "Remember I work at a **bar** , Nicole. Not my first rodeo this **week** , even. …Plus, Wynonna came in crazy late then by the time she passed out I would have had to get up to get everything, so…" She trailed off as she threw a thumb behind her at the still-running Jeep. Vapor clouded around the rumbling vehicle.

Nicole took a step back and opened the screen door on the porch to welcome the woman inside. Waverly shook her head and pointed behind her again. "Up for a little road trip?" She grinned, eyes glittering in the low light.

"Absolutely." Hesitation didn't even cross Nicole's mind. It didn't matter that it was 5:30 in the morning or that it was Goddamn cold out. Nicole did pause to pull at the bottom of her shirt, though. "…Uh, can I change first?"

"No need! I have blankets!" Waverly reached out and snagged the cuff of Nicole's shirt and tugged. "And if it makes you feel any better, we probably won't leave the car."

At Nicole's raised eyebrow, Waverly hastily added, "I just… want to show you something." There was a quiet shyness to her words, a soft gaze that she dropped after a second too long.

Without even thinking twice, Nicole replied, "…Let me get my keys." She pulled out of Waverly's grasp, but not before running fingertips down the woman's wrist. Possibly on accident.

She didn't run so much as fly over to the side table near the kitchen to scoop up her keyring. Nicole then detoured around the pantry to grab a handful of dry cat food from the open bag (after looping the keys over her coffee-hand index finger). She dropped the pellets with a loud clattering into Calamity Jane's bowl. An excited meow could be heard from the ajar closet. Ginger fur was a blur in Nicole's vision as she smoothly exited the house and locked the door behind her.

Waverly was still on her front porch, drinking coffee and staring off into the brightening eastern sky. At the creaking screen door, she turned to Nicole with a wide smile.

"Ready," Nicole affirmed with a playful twirl of her keys.

Gesturing at her car with her head, Waverly's long ponytail snapped behind her shoulder. Both women climbed into the small Jeep and buckled in (though Nicole did spare a moment outside to rake fingers through her messy hair).

Nicole was struck by how warm it was inside the car. There was a soft brown blanket folded up and waiting on her seat, which Nicole draped over her long legs. In between their seats was a large brown paper bag with some visible grease stains. A heavy scent of egg drifted up from it, making Nicole's stomach rumble.

At Nicole's intrigued glance downward, Waverly tsked before shifting gears to back out of the gravel driveway. "Not 'til we get there." She smiled widely at Nicole's attempt at a sad-but-hopefully-endearing face. "…it's not a long drive. Promise."

Purgatory was always dark at night. Small town, not a lot of wasted energy for street lamps outside of the main town areas (or ambitious neighbors with fancier automatic gates). The headlamps ahead only picked up the passing dirt/snow-covered road. Nicole was tempted to look at her phone for a map, but instead drank her coffee and savored the suspense.

"Ever seen a Purgatory sunrise?" Waverly asked, eyes intent on the windshield. Her palms rolled with the steering wheel from instinct and practice.

Nicole stopped to think. "Twice. So far." A sad smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, which she hid behind her coffee.

"When was the first?"

"End of my third night shift. Nedley kicked me off early. He showed up at the station, hat back on his head with a **giant** cup of coffee. He told me 'Dismissed, rookie. 'Bout time you appreciate why you're here.'" Nicole thought her gruff Sheriff Nedley impression was pretty good.

 _Success_ : Waverly chuckled. "What happened?"

"I was dog-ass tired from logging drunks in the tank… That was the night of that big brawl at Pussywillows. Like eight arrests, most of whose wives' were **not** keen on picking them up."

Nicole smiled as she looked down at that vague heart shape in her cup, the foam half gone. It made the memory all the sweeter. "So I walk outside, tired and irritated… and there's that big sunrise lighting up the street. It was right after the first snowfall which hadn't gotten a chance to melt, plus no one was out in town yet to disturb it. Just beautiful… the way the light hit the buildings and street. I didn't want to take a picture, I just wanted to **remember** it, y'know?"

Nodding, Waverly glanced over at her. "What was the second?"

An awkward swallow. "Uh… when—when I woke up in that ditch… After that 'Jack the Ripper' or whoever…" She trailed off, wincing when she saw the pained expression on Waverly's face. Nicole tried to salvage the story. "When I woke up, I was looking straight up and it was so quiet and I wasn't cold anymore. I saw the light change so quickly and I turned my head and there it was. Filtering through the trees and so **so** bright. And a second later, I saw Nedley step out of the sun and tell me I was 'gonna be okay, kid.'" No mocking impression this time, just a soft drop in pitch for imitation.

It was strange to think of the stern Sheriff as her guardian angel, but in that moment: he definitely was. Nicole had passed out immediately after and woken up in the hospital, just aching all over.

She felt fingertips on the hand in her lap and looked down. It was Waverly. A few of her bracelets tickled Nicole's thigh as the woman gripped her hand.

"…Nicole. I'm so sorry."

 _Why?_

"It's not your fault, Waves. It just happened. And I'm so glad Wynonna got away. I hope that sonofabitch got what was coming to him." Nicole didn't like to advocate violence, but deep down she had a few exceptions.

"He did." The sad, knowing way Waverly said that made Nicole's head jerk up. Nicole studied her, but her expression was neutral other than a tightening in her jaw.

Nicole had to bite her tongue against the sea of questions that sprang to mind. She just knew it had to have been Wynonna… but **how**?

 _Did it matter?_

Clearing her throat, Nicole squeezed Waverly's hand back. "When was your first sunrise, Waverly?"

A sad smile through that tight jaw. "It's not a good story."

"I'd like to hear it," Nicole said softly. "But I understand if you don't want to tell it."

There was about 10 seconds of silence. Nicole felt Waverly's hand start to slip out of hers, but then suddenly grip harder.

Staring hard at the road, Waverly's voice was soft and stuttering. "I was—I was six. On the Homestead. The night Willa was taken and… and Wynonna shot Daddy to try and—try and **stop** them. I remember just standing there. Aunt Gus kept asking me to come in the house, but I just couldn't move. I was still staring at where they—the cops—had driven off with Wynonna. And that little point on the horizon I was staring at… suddenly there was a little spark of light. And it just grew and grew and I stared until I couldn't see anymore."

"Oh God… I'm so sorry, Waverly."

"Not **your** fault either," Waverly echoed. She pulled her hand out of Nicole's finally to wipe at the single tear that had stained her cheek. Smiling at Nicole, Waverly shrugged. "I've seen happy ones, too. Some good ones on the MacCready farm between the hills. On the roof of Shorty's. Even on the Homestead with Wynonna."

She nodded ahead of them at a curve in the road. "This should be a good one, too."

"I'm sure it will be," Nicole agreed.

A few minutes later, the fat Jeep tires crunched as the road angle steepened. Nicole thought she saw a small white sign, but it passed too quickly for her to read. The dark purple had started to lighten and gave Nicole just the barest hint of surroundings: scrubby trees and a rock face to their right.

They meandered up the trail with the occasional errant swerve, but Waverly steered into any skids with practiced calm. Nicole pressed her body into her seat in alarm when she saw the Jeep heading directly for a close grove of bushes that appeared to dead-end into the cliffside.

"…Waverly."

The woman only smiled back wickedly and tapped the gas. Nicole braced herself as they crashed through the underbrush into a secret clearing just at the edge of a cliff. There, Waverly jerked the wheel into a small circle to point them directly at the edge and slow to a stop.

Shifting into park, Waverly leaned over and pulled up the paper bag to show Nicole. Inside, Nicole saw stacks of aluminum foil-wrapped mounds. A few had scribbles of letters on them with permanent marker.

"Ta da! Breakfast tacos! Courtesy of JD's Restaurant—well, courtesy of Debbie who owed me a favor," Waverly announced and crinkled the bag at Nicole (whose stomach rumbled again). She peeked inside and started listing, "The P's are for potato and egg, B's are for bean and egg, anything else is bacon. You like bacon, right?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh shit! Sorry!" Waverly gave an awkward laugh. "I wasn't trying to make a cop joke!"

It took a second for Nicole to register those rapid-fire words. Mostly because she was staring at Waverly's lips.

 _Unh? Cop joke?_

 _Oh right. Bacon. Pig. "Cops are pigs." Right._

Nicole laughed as selected an unmarked bacon and egg taco. "Purgatory must be a rare exception, cuz I actually haven't heard many cop jokes. Well… from people who aren't cops, anyway." She mock-glared at Waverly before covering it with a warm smile.

Waverly pulled out a cylindrical piece of foil with a distinct "P" indention on top for herself and set the bag back down. Nicole started to unwrap the taco, but a hand on her wrist stopped her from taking a bite.

Glancing at the dashboard, Waverly pulled on Nicole's wrist as she nodded straight ahead. "Wait for it."

Ever the polite guest, Nicole waited (and definitely did not jerk her hand out of Waverly's grasp).

The almost clear sky blossomed into warm pinks, then reds, then oranges. Ahead of them, the spectrum of color was mirrored across the smooth water of the Purgatory Reservoir. Bands of light trickled between the ridges of the reservoir cliffs. Steam billowing from the hot car engine refracted the light through a haze. And a few seconds later, a familiar bright orb crested the horizon. Ripples in the water sparkled with white light.

Turning to Waverly, Nicole was surprised to see the woman was already looking at her. Her hazel eyes caught the light and brightened to an almost-green. Waverly's soft smile suddenly turned to a more broad, smug one. "See? Told you."

Waverly "toasted" with a tap of her foil-wrapped taco against Nicole's as she let go of Nicole's hand. "Welcome to my spot, Nicole Haught." Manicured nails peeled back the aluminum within seconds.

"I'm honored." It was supposed to sound light and sarcastic. But instead, Nicole found herself smiling and sincere. "It's a good spot, Waverly Earp."

Nicole bit into her own taco, savoring the crunch of bacon and the still-warm egg. There was finally enough light to look around.

The Purgatory Reservoir was a pretty standard carved hole in the ground to create an artificial lake. Rusty piping scaled up the northern end before disappearing towards the town itself. There were definite paths cut into the rock with a small, empty dock on the eastern end. Otherwise, they were alone at this oddly serene little perch overlooking a distinct hiking trail.

 _Small town indeed._

"How did you find this place?" Nicole asked through another bite.

"By accident."

"Like most good things," Nicole nodded.

Waverly took a long sip of her coffee. "I was 16 and mad about something. I don't remember what. Curtis had just fixed up this Jeep so I just wanted to get away. I wanted to go down to the lake and just… I dunno, skip rocks or something. I was going too fast and a pair of hikers were coming up the trail. I had to turn hard and went through this little underbrush and ended up here. The hikers were drunk and didn't even notice. I sat here for hours, but no one came looking."

"Well that's… dangerous." Nicole offered a cringe-smile at Waverly's glare. "Hey, you could have just careened into the lake."

 _Then who would I be in lo—having breakfast with?_ Nicole wanted to say but held her tongue.

"But I didn't!" Waverly squawked defensively. She grumbled into her coffee. "…you sound just like Uncle Curtis."

"I will assume that's a compliment."

Waverly wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "Depends." But she did smile. "I used to come up here to practice cheerleading… lots of space plus privacy to shout at the top of my lungs. I was trying to make varsity. It was hard to practice at home when Wynonna was still there and always fighting with Gus and Curtis… or running off." Waverly balled up her fist and mock-punched her other open palm. "I love Wynonna to death… but she could be a shit. …Still is, sometimes."

"I can see that," Nicole calmly agreed, though she was still internally digesting the "cheerleader" factoid. It was… not an unpleasant path for her mind to go down.

Balling up the foil and chucking the trash into her back seat, Waverly drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. "I think everyone here has Their Spot, y'know? Which is so weird to think about. We live in a small town to get away from people… And yet with all this space, we still need **more** space to get away from everyone… usually the people we love." That sad smile was back.

Nicole leaned back in her seat to appreciate the view once more, though she did have to flip down the sun visor to shield her eyes. "I guess I'll be a true Purgatorian when I find my own Spot, yea?" She shot a grin at Waverly.

The return smile from Waverly was soft and sweet. "You can—you can borrow mine if you want. Until you find your own."

"When and if I do: you'll be the first person I tell," Nicole promised. She started to say something, but instead opted for a teasing retort. "It'll be hard to top this spot, though. You set the bar pretty high, Earp."

 _In more ways than one._

Waverly gave a humble bow of the head. "It's what I do, Haught."

Suddenly, they both picked this moment to go for the bag of tacos at the same time. Leaning over, they accidentally smacked their foreheads together. They both jerked back, Waverly swearing "Dammit!" while Nicole's vision was flooded with sparks of light. A second passed before they both burst out laughing and rubbed their heads.

Leaning back in carefully this time, Nicole reached her hand out to put it on Waverly's neck. She guided their foreheads into a gentle touch as she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

A bright, familiar chirp. "Deal!"

It was supposed to just be nice. Simple. But Nicole's hand stayed too long, their foreheads touched too long, Waverly smiled too long. Clearing her throat, Nicole dropped her gaze (and that hand) to select another taco while Waverly pulled back.

"What—what does the 'N' stand for?" Nicole asked, pulling a particularly large one out.

"Huh?" Waverly was still staring before she registered what Nicole had said. Her eyes blinked quickly. "Oh! That's the Nedley Special."

"The what?"

"Don't ask me what's in it. Debbie knows. Probably full of red meat and cheese. Chrissy and I keep telling him he needs to watch his cholesterol."

Nicole still stared, not quite understanding.

That ponytail at Waverly's shoulder bounced with her head tilt. "For the station? I figured you could look like a hero showing up for work with breakfast for everybody. Well…" Waverly amended with a sweet smile. "More of a hero than usual."

A melodic ping sounded in the car. Nicole's phone was silent in her blanketed lap, so it must be Waverly's. Ignoring it, Waverly reached in to snag the last potato and egg taco. "There you go. Take as much as you want, and the boys can have the rest… or pull a Wynonna and just eat it all in front of them." She wrinkled her nose in mock-disgust.

" **Thank you** , Waverly. I really apprecia—" Nicole started before another text sound.

Waverly's jaw tightened, but not before she placed the large sack on Nicole's lap. And another ping.

"God **dammit!** She always **does** this!" Waverly's voice was almost a breathless shriek from the high pitch.

"Waverly…"

A few seconds later the phone rang, which Waverly angrily tapped to send to voicemail.

"So, what time do you—?" Waverly started to ask before the phone in her hand buzzed again. A vein twitched at her temple.

Nicole had to try very hard not to laugh. "Waverly. It's okay. It might be important."

The phone rang for a third time. Wynonna was being persistent. Exhaling loudly through her nose, Waverly stabbed a finger at the phone. "I'm here I'm here! **Jesus!** What's going on?"

Nicole could hear Wynonna's voice through the phone, loud and breathless.

["What the **hell** , Waverly? You scare the **shit** out of me when you don't answer! Where are you?"]

Waverly shot a significant glance at Nicole before her eyes returned to the dashboard. "I was—I'm just running an—I'm out with—none of your **business**! What's going on?" She repeated, cheeks reddeningly slightly.

 _Ah._

Nicole remained thoughtfully silent, though a little ember of hope was kindled.

 **Re** kindled, if she was being 100% honest.

 _Maybe… If—If it didn't mean anything, it would be easy to just say "I'm hanging out with Nicole." …but she didn't. So… maybe…?_

Wynonna's muffled voice was accusing. ["You're running errands?! At seven in the morning?!"]

"I have a **life** , Wynonna. A **job** , too," Waverly hissed back defensively. "Plus, what are **you** doing up this early? You didn't even make it to bed last night. I had to leave you on the couch."

["Hey, I just needed a power nap! A little Red Bull and this little lady will be firing on all cylinders in no time!"]

Nicole reflexively made a silent retching noise at the thought of Red Bull. **_No_** _thank you, ma'am._

Sighing, Waverly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Uh huh…"

["Anyway, Dolls is up my **ass** about some new case. And he **very** specifically asked for you to show up. You know how he loves his pep-talk briefings. Whole new meaning to 'fire and brimstone' with that guy."]

"Right," Waverly sighed again. "…right."

["See you at the office in 30?"]

Checking her watch, Waverly shook her head. "Gonna take me a little longer than that. But yea. I'll be there."

["Thanks, babygirl. …where **are** you anyway?"]

"I said none of your damn business, Wynonna."

["You better not have gotten back together with that **idiot** Champ. Or his pair of 'braincells.'"]

Waverly's eyes flicked to Nicole's again and her nose wrinkled in awkward—but suppressed—anger. " **No** , I am not with **Champ**. Just… see you at the office. **Bye**."

Nicole would be lying if her ears didn't perk up every time she heard about a case falling into BBD's lap, especially when she heard Waverly was consulting on it. But Nicole simply sat politely and kept a sympathetic smile on her face.

 _Something a friend would do, right?_

Apologetic, Waverly asked if they could head back. Nicole obliged with a nod; she had to get ready for her shift. And there was still time to squeeze in a shower. A run was out of the question now.

 _Totally worth it, though._

The warm, idled Jeep growled to life and Waverly shifted gears before turning back down the road they came. The gravel crunched under fat tires as they bounced back towards Purgatory proper in silence.

"Why—" Nicole started, before clearing her throat and clutching the bag of tacos tighter. "—Why didn't you tell Wynonna you were hanging out with me?" Thankfully, it didn't come out emotional or accusing, but just politely curious.

Waverly was silent. She offered a small shrug which pushed her side ponytail over her shoulder.

Part of Nicole wanted to press the matter. Get an answer once and for all. Get whatever this was—this silent, unspoken thing—out in the open.

 _Or end it once and for all?_

But that was Nicole's impatience talking. She was only half the equation. The other half was Waverly, who obviously wasn't ready for… whatever this was. That wasn't fair to put everything on Waverly to decide right this second… Especially after she was up all night dealing with Wynonna and God-Only-Knows what else.

Granted, not every discussion was going to have the luxury of a right-place, right-time. But at the very least, Nicole could give her the space to decide when **she** was ready.

Which clearly was not this moment.

Instead, Nicole leaned over and clicked on the radio. The dial was set to the local pop station, the signal crisp this close to the radio tower (which visibly crested the hill north of the reservoir). A heady beat accompanied female vocals that Nicole didn't recognize, but she did notice a small rhythmic bobbing of Waverly's head to the beat. The uncomfortable silence was only interrupted by the radio DJ cracking bad jokes between Top 40 tracks.

It wasn't until they pulled into Nicole's driveway did Waverly finally answer. "I just…"

The sound of Waverly's voice stopped Nicole from folding up the blanket over her knees. She looked up to see a very intense, brow-crinkled look from Waverly.

"…I'm not like, **ashamed** of hanging out with you. I hope you know that, Nicole."

Nicole gave a cheek-pulling smile of acknowledgement. "I know. I'm not ashamed of hanging out with you either, Waverly." She waited, running her fingertips down the now-cold bag of tacos.

"I just… I want something separate from Wynonna, you know? I just… I always feel like I'm working around her. Or Gus. Or this town. …Or being an Earp. And I… I don't know what I'm trying to say." Waverly trailed off, collapsing into her seat with an angry sigh.

"Okay."

"'Okay?'" A high-pitched mimic of Nicole. Waverly frowned at her. "What do you mean: 'okay?'"

Nicole offered Waverly the folded blanket as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "I mean okay." She turned to face Waverly and looked her dead in the eye. "It's okay for Wynonna to not know everything. It's okay to feel like you're always doing things for everyone else and not yourself and be frustrated by it. It's okay that you don't know what to say. And I'm okay with all of that."

"Nicole, I…" Waverly bit her lip.

"Thank you for breakfast, Waverly," Nicole said warmly. She reached out and touched Waverly's wrist. "I'll see you at the station later?"

Waverly nodded, confused. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't.

"Okay," Nicole repeated, though with a slight teasing twinkle this time. "Have a good morning. I know I did." And with that, she turned and headed for her front door.

Excited scratching could be heard as Nicole put her key in the lock after balancing the large bag under her armpit. When she got the door open to a waiting Calamity Jane, Nicole turned to wave at Waverly, who was still staring back at her. Eventually, the woman gave Nicole a small nod and smile before turning over her shoulder to back out of the driveway.

Nicole watched the small red Jeep disappear down the road with a flurry of snow and dust.

Her phone pinged a few minutes later as she turned on the knobs for a hot shower.

[Waverly says: "I've never told anyone about my spot"]

[Nicole says: "I'm honored"]

[Waverly says: "I'm glad I could show you"]

[Nicole says: "Me too. It was worth the trip"]

A series of "…" appeared and reappeared for close to 60 seconds. Just as Nicole gave up and put the phone down to hop in the shower, the device pinged again.

[Waverly says: "So are you"]


	5. just the worst

_THIS is the last "just friends" pre-WayHaught. A re-telling of how That Day might have gone down from Waverly's perspective (and taking into account the timeline stretching I did under the reasoning of "selling a property like Shorty's would have taken some time to hash out." Seriously, if you've ever bought a house you'll know what I mean: that shit takes forever even in a rush.)_

* * *

He showed up at Shorty's wearing an ill-fitting gray suit with a red tie, a sheaf of paperwork in one hand and briefcase in the other. Normally, Waverly Earp would pay a guy like that little mind. But this gentleman didn't come into Shorty's for a drink: he came asking after Gus MacCready.

That set off warning bells for Waverly.

This wasn't the first time Waverly had seen him. In fact, he'd returned several times in the past few weeks. A nagging worry had started to fester at the back of Waverly's mind.

The next red flag was how attentive Gus had been to what he had to say. Hours a day were spent sifting through documentation, only to return with more papers a few days later. They typically pored over his paperwork on the upper level table, usually just out of earshot at the bar.

What Waverly did manage to overhear, especially today, set her heart racing. And not in a good way.

"…is this what we agreed on?" Aunt Gus asked, eyes narrowing at the young man.

"To the letter," he said with a lopsided grin.

Topping off the beer she'd been pouring for Pete, Waverly shot the customer a hurried smile. "There you go," she muttered and started to turn away to resume her eavesdropping.

"I heard about you and Champ, by the way," Pete said shyly, sweeping off the brim of his tan flat cap and running fingers over a short crop of hair.

 _Uh huh_ , she thought disinterestedly. Waverly affixed a kind smile to her cheeks but avoided eye contact with Pete. She strained to hear what Gus and That Guy were saying, but she could only make out flipping pages and a clicking pen.

"He never treated you right, Waverly," Pete said. She waved off the comment, mostly because it wasn't entirely true. But the thought agitated her more than she already was.

 _Champ wasn't a bad boyfriend. **Or** a bad guy. He's just… not what I'm looking for. Or what I need._

Pete continued, a smile turning the edges of his scruffy cheeks. "I was thinking, you know, any man in Purgatory would be lucky to have you…"

Inwardly groaning, Waverly stopped herself short of scoffing, _"But would I be lucky to have **them?** "_

Rolling his thumbs around that mug of beer, Pete's eyes didn't quite meeting Waverly's. "And I was **also** thinking that—"

 _Oh **God**. No no no no no no no._

Eyes widening, Waverly leapt in to cut off his train of thought. "—that you should find a gal **like** me, only **taller** , right? So she can actually get up in that custom-lifted, tricked-out pickup of yours?" She nodded at him significantly, praying Pete would get the hint.

Thankfully, Pete took the out rather than the impending bruise to his ego. His grin was a little pained, but he agreed, "Uh, **yea**. Yea, exactly." Pausing for a beat, Pete then asked, "…is Wynonna… still around?"

Waverly made an exhale-sound in disgust and shot him a withering glare. She shooed him away from the counter with her bar towel, where he joined his brother at the pool table. There was a lull before the boys started chuckling among themselves and threw looks behind them at Waverly. She glared daggers back and made a swiping motion across her throat while smugly mouthing, _"Ha ha you're cut off."_ That shut them up with an expletive before they racked a new game of pool.

 _Ugh. Men are all the same._

Sighing, Waverly scrubbed at a pair of clean mugs from the dishwasher below the bar. She went back to staring despondently at Gus near the front of the saloon. The older woman was still flipping through a stack of papers, hand at her chin, eyes probing every line of print. A pen rolled on her knuckles, poised and ready.

Just as that pen clicked one final time, Waverly straightened and announced, "I'm gonna take my break now!"

Her aunt only nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes focused on the documents in front of her.

That little brush-off grated on Waverly. She resisted the urge to huff as she gathered up her blue coat and brown purse to head for the door. A chill Purgatory wind stung Waverly's cheeks as she stepped outside.

But Waverly just couldn't stay and watch. She knew what was coming. The thing Waverly had been low-key dreading for weeks had arrived, complete with that rumpled gray suit and red tie.

Today was the day: Gus was selling Shorty's.

"What the **frick** is going on today?" Waverly asked no one in particular as she stalked down the street, clutching her elbows to brace against the cold.

This whole day had felt off since she'd rolled out of bed this morning.

Even though there had been a lull in BBD cases lately, Wynonna was a scarce sight at the Homestead. So was Doc. Dolls was… Dolls.

And Nicole…

Waverly scowled as she checked her phone. No new SnapChats or text messages. Same as yesterday.

Things were weird with Nicole since Waverly had sent that text after watching the sunrise. It was like they forgot how to be friends.

It was all Waverly's fault, too. She'd messed things up… crossed the line.

 _["It was worth the trip"]_

 _["So are you"] …stupid. Stupid stupid stupid._

Plus, the last time they'd bumped into each other outside the station had been a **disaster**. First they'd actually physically bumped into each other (via hard shoulder-check), then it was a race to see who could apologize first, then a lot of shy ground-kicking and "So…"

Pulling the brim down on her Stetson slightly, Nicole had asked, "So… how's Wynonna?"

"She's… Wynonna," Waverly had replied simply. "So—uh—how's… Calamity Jane?"

"She's good."

"Good."

(Un)fortunately, Lonnie had knocked on the window to summon Nicole inside, so the women managed to part ways with just awkward smiles. And since then, Waverly had started about a dozen texts but deleted every single one. Which dragged out the weirdness further.

 _Ugh._

 _What am I gonna do? How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to **normal** again?_

 _…what the heck would Normal even **be**?_

As she rounded the street corner, Waverly halted dead in her tracks. Because at the next block over, Waverly spotted a familiar, uniformed profile complete with a white Stetson.

 _Oh you've got to be frickin' **kidding** me._

Bathed in the flashing lights of her police cruiser, Officer Nicole Haught was indeed standing at the corner. She had her metal clipboard in hand and appeared to be giving a ticket to two college-age blonde girls.

As Waverly approached, she tried to blend in with some storefront awnings. The diner was just up the street and if Waverly could just get some food in her belly, maybe she could come up with a plan to—

"Hey! Wave!"

 _Frick._

Just on the other side of the street now, Nicole gave a broad smile and a gloved wave. Her motorists had briefly returned to their car to dig out purses and insurance information.

Sighing in resignation as she crossed the street, Waverly managed to step in a freezing puddle. She swore under her breath as the icy water seeped through a sock, soaking her toes. The low-key frustration at the base of her skull started to throb.

 ** _Perfect_** _. Just **perfect**._

Nicole grimaced in empathy when she heard the splash. "Oh shoot, you okay? Sorry, I just wanted to say hey. I—I haven't seen you in awhile, so…" She trailed off, her dimpled smile soft and sweet.

"Yea, it's fine," Waverly said, a little more sharply than she intended. When Nicole shrank back, Waverly gave a tight smile. "Sorry. Today just—today just **sucks**." She stamped on her damp foot a little, feeling her sock bunch between her toes uncomfortably.

 _Ugh_.

Tilting her head in sympathy, Nicole started, "I'm sorry to hear that. I tried texting you, but I wasn't sure if—"

"Yea, me too," Waverly rushed in with a shy smile. "I keep just—and then just don't know what to—"

A sing-sing voice interrupted the woman. "Yoohoo! Officer… Hoht?"

Both women turned at the same time to see the pair of blondes bounding back from their SUV, red passports in hand. They were practicing rolling Nicole's unfamiliar last name in a foreign tongue. "Europeiska Unionen Sverige" was stamped in gold lettering on those red booklets.

 _Swedish?_

"It's Haught, ma'am," Nicole corrected politely. She opened her hand to accept the pair of passports.

"Haaaaw-tuh," one enunciated slowly. The other giggled, long eyelashes batting over heavily eye-shadowed blue eyes.

Nicole muttered under her breath just loud enough for Waverly to hear, "…Close enough." She shot Waverly a wink as she continued writing on her metal clipboard.

Left Blonde twirled her scarf around her finger. "Will this be taking long time, Officer Hawwwt? We were wanting to see the Mount Rushmore today."

Waverly chimed in with a wincing smile. "You're off by a few hundred miles and a couple states." She pointed to the southeast. "You want I-90. You're on I-80."

An argument started in Swedish, both women angrily slapping at each other's elbows and shoulders for a few seconds. They also pulled phones from pockets to consult their maps. Waverly and Nicole just exchanged confused (but bemused) glances.

The Right Blonde then shushed the Left and gave a shy smile to Nicole. "You give us directions, maybe? Put us on right road?"

"Uh, sure…" Nicole replied, baffled but cordial. "After we discuss that illegal left turn y'all made. And you were going 22 miles above the posted speed limit." She waved the ticket pad at them before returning Right Blonde's passport.

"Is just mistake. Not happen again," Left Blonde promised.

Right Blonde jumped in, her hand brushing down the elbow of Nicole's coat (which Nicole pulled away from). "You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? You ever see the Mount Rushmore? Want to be joining us?" Her tone was low, enticing, flirty. Left Blonde nodded in emphatic agreement.

 _Ughhh. They… are the worst._

Feeling like she was in the way, Waverly started to take a few cautious steps back. Her cold foot made a squishing sound, which turned Nicole's head. The woman gave Waverly a panicked frown, but for just a second Waverly thought she saw a fond uptilt to Nicole's lips. Which sent a surge of **something** through Waverly's chest, briefly overriding that throbbing frustration.

Right at that moment, the radio on Nicole's shoulder sounded off with a crackle of static. ["Haught, do you copy?"] A male voice.

The Velcro made a soft ripping sound as Nicole pulled the radio to her mouth and clicked the call button. "This is Haught finishing an 11-95 on Cooper. Go ahead." She slapped the radio back on her shoulder and continued writing on her ticket pad.

The male dispatcher continued. ["Haught, return to the station when you finish that 11-95."]

Scowling, Nicole leaned into her radio. "Copy that. …is something wrong?"

["Nedley wants your ass on desk duty."] The dispatcher sounded apologetic. ["Something about how you're the only one who gets shit done around here."] There was brief, muffled outrage/agreement on the other end of the radio.

"Again?!" Nicole grumbled under her breath before clicking the button one last time. "10-4, on my way. Haught out."

The two Swedish women groaned, first at being denied an "escort" and second at the ticket Nicole handed back along with the remaining passport. They attempted to salvage their disappointment by taking selfies with "a real police" and asking for Nicole's number, which the woman declined (after shooting another panicked look at Waverly).

This whole exchange was… annoying to Waverly. And not just because she seemed invisible. Backing away slowly the way she came, Waverly smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I'm keeping you from doing your **job**. I should—I'll just go." She resisted the urge to add an unnecessarily snarky _"Have fun"_ under her breath.

Nicole's frown was apologetic. "Waverly…" She looked like she wanted to say more.

But Waverly had already turned and ran back across the street. Giving up on the diner, Waverly stomped back to Shorty's (though she took the long way back, weaving through alleys). At least the walk might give her a chance to maybe clear her head. Minus the fact her boots squished every other step.

She didn't quite know why she was so irritated, but Waverly's blood was downright boiling as she strode through "downtown" Purgatory. Running into Nicole used to be such a lovely surprise. But that…

…That was such a stupid thing to be mad about. And what was there even to **be** mad about? Nothing even **happened**.

 _Ugh_.

Maybe because Nicole was working and Waverly felt like she was in the way? But Nicole had called **her** over. If she was such a bother, why would Nicole go out of her way to talk to her?

She was missing something and that angered Waverly even more. It felt obvious but just out of reach. She wanted to talk to someone about it.

But Wynonna wasn't around and… the only other person she wanted to talk to was… Nicole.

 _Ugh… How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to **normal** again?_

 _…what would normal even **be** for us?_

 _…Us…_

* * *

Gus was shaking hands with the Gray Suit when Waverly returned to Shorty's. File folders slapped closed, keys were waved about, and polite laughter drifted through the saloon.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. MacCready," the man said before leaving. His eyes gave a worried sweep of the bar but when he didn't find what he was looking for, he smiled in relief. Briefcase snapping shut, Gray Suit held the case to his chest protectively as he ventured out those heavy double doors.

Waverly stalked over to Gus. "So you just did it? You just went ahead and sold it," she said accusingly.

Her Aunt's gaze was hard. "Decisions had to be made." Gus flipped back through her paperwork, blue pen bouncing between index and middle fingers. "I know you don't believe me, but you were not born to be a Goddamn small-town waitress."

That softened Waverly some. "Yea, I believe you..." Resentment and worry still burned in the back of her mind. She latched on to her outrage. "But I have, like, three shirts that say Shorty's."

It didn't come out **quite** as biting as Waverly had hoped.

Gus smirked back. "Honey, it's in the agreement: Shorty's will never get torn down. You can work here in as many shirts as you want for as long as you want." Her dark eyes flicked over Waverly in a quick once over, a mixture of warmth and disapproval.

Waverly tried to interject. "That's not the point!"

"Things **change** , kid. I never thought I'd be the one makin' this decision, but I made it all the same." Gus tapped the heavy file folder on the edge of the counter to evenly align the batch of papers. "It's past time I moved on from this town. Enjoy my retirement." Her slanted smile was sad with apology. "I got an offer on the farm, too. From a nice family from Shelby."

Sputtering, Waverly slammed her palms on the counter. " **What?!** You're—you're **leaving?!** And you didn't—why didn't—I didn't know!" She could feel her pulse quicken, blood pounding in her ears.

"Cuz I didn't want you to **fret** , Waverly. My sister's got a spare room since her boy went away to college. It's time I reconnect with my old life. Just like you're doing with Wynonna," she said with a significant nod. "Not all change is bad, honey. It just **is**. And it's up to you to make the most of it."

Waverly flopped her head down on the counter, long hair covering her face. The wood counter was cool on her forehead as she groaned into the surface. "I can't **believe** this. This is the frickin' **worst**." She looked up through her curtain of brown strands. "I'm gonna miss you so much," Waverly said, her voice small as her breath puffed against those hairs.

Her Aunt smiled and reached over. A soft, wrinkled hand parted the hair over Waverly's forehead so her face was visible again. Gus stroked her hair for another second before laying the file folder back on the bar (the air tickling Waverly's cheek in its wake).

"You too, kid. But when you decide you're ready to unstick those wings of yours…" Gus trailed off as she reached into her back pocket. Unfolding a small crisp paper, she offered it to Waverly. "…Don't cash it for a week or so."

Lifting her head, Waverly took the thin paper and examined it before she asked, "What's this?"

It was a check. And there were… a **lot** of zeroes at the end of that check.

 _What. The. **Frick**._

Leaning over the end of the bar, Gus patted Waverly's elbow with a smile. "It's freedom, honey!" She gave the check a joyful flick and shook her head in amusement. "You've been doing what **others** want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is **you** want."

It should have been touching. Wonderful. **Liberating**.

But instead Waverly felt… empty. Lost. Alone.

She held in her hands the answer to so many questions… except she couldn't remember what the question **was** that this was an answer **to**. She felt a heat in her eyes.

"…which is **what**?" Waverly retorted despondently.

A soft, sage smile. "Live your life," Gus said. "Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want." She paused to give Waverly a lingering look before winking. " **Who** we want."

That caught in Waverly's throat. She could only stare back, confused.

"You've always been an honest kid." Patting her elbow again, Gus leaned in drop a kiss on Waverly's cheek. "Don't stop now."

Gus scooped up her file of papers and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Waverly alone at the bar holding a small fortune in her hands (and more questions than answers).

* * *

The Purgatory Reservoir stretched out before Waverly, the water's gentle ripples reflecting a cloudy afternoon sky. With a line of snowy Jeep tracks leading to her hidden alcove, Waverly's Spot was just as quiet as always. Sipping on her second (third?) espresso, Waverly licked her lips against the cinnamon flavoring and stared out at the horizon.

She'd gone home to change out of her Shorty's getup, and not just for a dry pair of socks. Even in her favorite white wool sweater with a coffee in hand, Waverly still felt cold. There was nervous energy in her chest that sent little shivers through her shoulders and collarbone.

 _What the **frick** is going on today?_

Everything felt so… empty. This place, Waverly's safe place against everything crazy with Purgatory… it didn't seem so magical. The Reservoir was just a dingy, fake lake chiseled out of rock.

The last time she'd been here, she'd brought Nicole. It had been… something. Something bigger. Now it was back to being small and lonely.

Waverly folded and unfolded that check. The same line of zeroes was still there. A small fortune wrapped up in a such a small piece of paper.

It was funny: when Wynonna had first showed up, she offered to hock Peacemaker so the Earp sisters could go abroad and leave Purgatory behind for good. Now, Waverly had the money to do that twice over.

But things were different from then in so many ways. Wynonna had embraced being the Heir. Breaking the Earp Curse didn't seem like so lofty a pipedream, but an actual possibility. And Waverly… she was **helping**. All those years poured into research and history and language was finally getting put to use.

The nervous energy in Waverly's chest dredged up an old hurt for a moment and she let it roll through her.

Wynonna. Sweet, older sister. The protective one. The strong one. …And the screw-up who'd left Waverly behind.

Waverly, who stayed. Waverly, who dedicated her life to breaking the Earp Curse. Waverly… who couldn't break the Goddamn curse.

And Wynonna, who just waltzed back into town on raw, God-given talent and the only one who knew where Peacemaker had been hidden. It had hurt to be left out, to be the only one who took things seriously, to yet again be Not Enough as an Earp.

That stupid Revenant hadn't been wrong: Waverly was envious—jealous—of Wynonna. And while she was proud that her sister was finally taking it all seriously finally, a small part of Waverly was still resentful. It was a slow burn of forgiveness that was rooted in long-time little sister spite. But even Waverly could admit her big sister had grown into the role and—through trial by fire and then some—was equal to the task.

So, they couldn't just up and leave Purgatory. Not after they'd worked so hard and come together as a team. As a family.

 _"It's freedom, honey!"_ Gus has said.

Why didn't it feel like freedom?

Waverly could go for a Master's degree at a decent university. Or go to Japan or the ocean or at the very least just leave Purgatory for the first time in her life. Anything she ever wanted, she could go do. Right now, if she wanted.

But… why didn't any of those things sound good?

Slouching back into her seat with an annoyed sigh, Waverly took a deep sip of her coffee. She played with the ends of her scarf, her gaze drifting back to the passenger seat.

 _Nicole_.

The image of the woman watching the sunrise with such awe and wonder was burned into Waverly's memory. Her red hair tousled from sleep, bundled in Waverly's blanket, hands politely folded around the coffee that Waverly had carefully made for her at four in the morning.

For some reason, Nicole tended to linger in Waverly's head. For minutes, hours, days after they spent time together. They'd talked for less than a minute on the street earlier, yet Waverly still remembered the earrings she'd been wearing (round gold studs) and the smell of vanilla.

That warm flutter around Waverly's shoulders calmed for a moment, until the voice of those two Swedish girls returned in her mind. Then a scowl darkened Waverly's face, the agitation quickening her blood.

She resented those women's confidence and brashness. They didn't care what anyone thought. Just aimlessly wandered around the Northwest in an SUV without a care in the world. No plan, no nothing. They just went out and did whatever they wanted. Including…

 _"You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? Want to be joining us?"_

They just—they just **asked**. They didn't need to go to JD's and plan out what they were gonna say. They didn't need days of psyching themselves up to plan a stupid sunrise (probably). But there it was: envy. Envy for a whole wide world of people doing things Waverly couldn't/wouldn't/didn't/hadn't.

Waverly's thumb wandered to her own phone, her message history with Nicole depressingly quiet.

It was a shitty thing to be resentful about, she realized. Because she was basically mad at herself for not taking action. She'd always just let things happen to her. Let Champ Hardy ask her out. Let Wynonna take charge of the Curse. Let herself be a Goddamn small-town waitress instead of—what?

 _"You've been doing what **others** want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is **you** want."_

 _"…which is **what**?"_

 _"Live your **life**."_

 _Okay_ , Waverly thought with a long, slow breath. She tried to center herself like she did in yoga. Focused on breathing, let the outside world fade away, just her and the next breath.

 _What do I want? If I could want anything? Right here and now?_

A bunch of thoughts trickled in. Glimpses of things she'd seen on YouTube or read about, secret passages of her diary… Swimming in the ocean or the wind on her face with the world below.

Pretty scary. But… **lacking** somehow now.

Maybe because… she could do those whenever she wanted? There was no urgency, no risk attached anymore. A good plan would take care of any of those little bucket-list things (now that she had the money).

 _Okay. What else?_

 _"Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want. **Who** we want."_

Her fingers felt around in her purse and found a small piece of paper. Not the check Aunt Gus had given her. This paper was thicker, smaller, lined with creases where it had been folded and unfolded over and over again. The pad of her index finger traced the embossing and Waverly didn't even need to open her eyes it to know what it said.

"Officer Nicole Haught, Purgatory Sheriff's Department."

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Waverly let it out slowly. That jangling feeling in her chest started again, pushing her to stop hiding and put into words this tightly coiled anxiety she'd been holding on to for **so** **long**.

That tight feeling had come so close to being free, weeks ago. On that afternoon when Waverly had run into Nicole on the street.

 _"I kind of just discovered it,"_ Waverly had said, out loud, finally. The courage to put to words had been on the tip of her tongue, a short lifetime of restrained almosts laid bare. Except it had gone horribly wrong, dismissed by a distracted Nicole. The woman had apologized later, but not before Waverly had boxed that thought back up again and put it back on the shelf. To be dealt with later.

With another shaky inhale, Waverly pulled that thought close again, hugged it to her. And when she exhaled, she finally— **finally** —let it go.

Waverly liked Nicole. A lot. **A lot** , a lot.

Not as friends.

"Friends" don't wonder what the other one is doing all hours of the day (and night).

"Friends" don't get goosebumps when the other touches them.

"Friends" don't wish the other would look at her the way Nicole did, like she saw inside her (and what's more: **liked** what she saw).

She wanted Nicole. **Wanted her,** wanted her.

She wanted to know the things that made Nicole laugh—that sweet, deep, melodic laugh.

She wanted to know what Nicole was thinking when she chewed her cheek or licked her lips that certain way.

She wanted to know what Nicole felt like. Smelled like. Tasted like.

Eyes shooting open, Waverly let out another long breath. That feeling in her chest… it loosened. Like she was lighter. **Relieved** , even.

 _Okay._

She needed talk to Nicole. Make a plan. Tell her—tell her Waverly liked her. And maybe… they could start over?

 _…But what if she said no_?

Nicole had already gotten hurt—almost **died** —before. If she stuck around, Nicole could get hurt again, maybe worse. The Earp Curse was kind of a big secret to keep/problem to deal with. Maybe… maybe it's better if Waverly didn't say anything?

 _"You've always been an honest kid."_

She knew she was looking for an excuse to bail. She scowled at herself, at how scared she was. How close she was to chickening out already.

 _Oh God what if Nicole said no?_

 _…Oh God what if Nicole said **yes?**_

That was the real question she was afraid of. If it was a No, she could just put that thought back on its shelf. Easy. Simple. Safe. Waverly knew what that life was like (since she was basically living it right now, so no surprises there).

But a Yes… that was Big. All those exciting Firsts wrapped in all those potential mistakes. All Waverly's Earp baggage laid bare along with all of Nicole's. And all that terrifying Unknown made less scary knowing there was someone to share it all with.

Shifting her Jeep into reverse, Waverly made a two-point turn before heading back up the trail back to Purgatory. She downed the rest of her coffee in one big swallow, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel.

 _Okay. What's the plan?_

 _Okay. First go to the station and find Nicole. Obviously._

 _What if she's not there? Do I text her? Meet her somewhere?_

Waverly had to chew her cheek a moment before remembering: Nicole is on desk duty. She **should** be at the station.

 _Okay. What about anyone else?_

She glanced the clock on her dashboard: _4:15 PM._

 _Okay. Nedley should be at Shorty's and if Nicole is on desk, that puts Lonnie out on patrol. And no Dolls or Wynonna at BBD to bug me._

 _Okay. Nicole should be alone at the station. Then what?_

 _"Live your **life**."_

* * *

Striding up those steps, Waverly headed straight for the Sheriff's Department on pure instinct. Her heart was hammering in her throat. And her plan was total shit.

Waverly still hadn't thought of something good to say other than just blurting out "I like you, Nicole" in the middle of the station. She was breathing through her nose, dangling earrings tickling Waverly's cheeks from her fast gait. She was nervous and agitated from all that damn espresso, too. It was hard to keep a thought still in her head.

When she reached a familiar hallway, Waverly hung back just outside the station. She saw the back of an older woman at the police desk. Dolores, Judge Cryderman's secretary, was doing some admin work. Waverly waited for the woman to leave before approaching.

Eyes skimming the station, Waverly felt an equal mixture of relief and anxiety to see the place was empty. Just like she'd hoped/dreaded.

Nicole Haught sat at the desk, pen scratching over a form. Her brow was knit in focus.

"Hey, Nedley out for dinner?" Waverly asked in a rush, barely able to make eye contact.

Head jerking up, Nicole's eyes crinkled when she saw Waverly. The woman tilted her head with a deadpan reply. "You mean 'happy hour at Shorty's?'"

Waverly mumbled a "yea" as she looked over at Nedley's blessedly empty office.

 _Perfect._

Nicole gave a small nod as she sat back in her chair, dropping the pen on her form. "Same time every day, kinda like clockwork. Do you need h—?"

That nod was all Waverly needed. She pushed through the wooden divider, past Nicole and into the Sheriff's office. Setting her purse down on the desk, Waverly gave the office a fraction of a second once-over before heading for the window blinds that looked out into the bullpen.

"Hey! Wave!"

Nicole's confused shout behind Waverly made her move faster. She tugged on the cords in rapid succession, the wooden slats angling closed on one, then another, then the third window. Standing in the doorway was a very confused Nicole, who again offered a soft "Hey?"

Nudging the taller woman aside, Waverly offered a gruff "excuse me" as she edged the door closed with a gentle slam. She looked out the office door one last time, but there was no one around.

 _Oh **God**._

When Waverly turned, Nicole snapped, "What is your **problem?** I don't understand why you—!"

That almost— **almost** —stopped Waverly. But she had already pushed forward, letting instinct and her pounding heartbeat lead. She was too close to stop now. She had to **know**.

Waverly had done the only thing that came to mind: she lunged forward and just kissed Nicole. She was just so **tall**. And when Waverly felt some resistance, she almost let go (but she had too much momentum propelling her forward).

But then… Nicole's hands clamped down over hers. And not to push Waverly's hands away, either. They held tight to Waverly's wrists, one near Nicole's neck and the other on her waist. Nicole held on, but the balance had already been upset and they were falling backward.

Luckily, Nicole somehow had the ability to maneuver them around the corner to the couch. And there… it continued for a moment. Held fast. Just like Waverly had hoped and feared and everything in between as they kissed.

Oh God, she was so soft and sweet yet firm and strong and—oh! Nicole tasted every bit as good as she smelled. Her head tilted in just the right ways, pushing and pulling against Waverly's tongue with a gasp. When Waverly felt Nicole pull back from underneath her(!), she finally broke contact. Her heart still fluttered in her chest, but from happiness this time.

 _"It's **freedom** , honey!"_

While the last thing Waverly had seen before she shut her eyes tight was irritation on Nicole's face, now that woman beamed back at Waverly with impossible joy. The light from the outside window shone almost like a halo on Nicole's head.

All Waverly saw now were dimples and glowing skin and warm brown eyes and Nicole was just **beautiful** and Waverly's voice caught in her throat.

Laughing lightly, Nicole's question was laced with breathless amusement:

"What happened to 'friends?'"


End file.
